I should totally just do my freaking paper, already, but I can’t get my brain around it. I should’ve done it months ago, and I didn’t, and I planned to do it today, but HELLO! Today is the last Tuesday that I AM NOT A MOM. That is so weird. Tonight is the last night that Dave and I sleep in our own bed, together, as non-parents. FUCKED UP. How can I concentrate on a PAPER when I’m about to become a mom, for real? ARGH.

Finishing the quilt was way easier.  A paper? Nooooooo……. I won’t fail, it’s just an incomplete until I FINISH it. And I know, I KNOW I should Just Do It, but damn. I have a baby to daydream about! A BABY! Coming in the next, oh 48 hours or so. Holy CRAP. BABY.

Tonight we plan on giving the house a good clean, so that we come home to a clean house. I’m trying to convince Dave to work through lunch and come home at 4 tomorrow (we call L&D at 6 to go in), so we can get dinner or whatever, and I hope he does.  Amy will arrive after we’ve left, so I have to leave a note for her.  I’ve told my sister & parents that Thursday is D-Day, no matter what, but we haven’t told Dave’s family. (I don’t think, anyway. Maybe he did.) I’m okay with that, just because my parents are farther away and will be coming through Thursday or Friday anyway, so it’s okay to be on alert. the ILs are all in town, so I figure it’s okay that my parents have a ‘head start’ or whatever, and they know not to come to the hospital until the baby is born.

Oh, and a really bitchy rant — my MIL sent dave home with a Mother’s Day present for me. THoughtful, right? Sigh.  A WalMart Disney-Pooh onesie with a PUFFY PAINT TIGGER on the front. With matching ASS PANTS that say "I <3 TIGGER."  I hate ASS PANTS anyway, on babies or adults or 12 year old girls, I haaaate them. (There was a girl in my yoga class that had them that said "SPANK ME" and they made me want to BEAT HER. UGH.)  Plus, it’s licensed character Disney crap. It’s POOH-ASS SHIT. And so NOT a mother’s day present, not at all. That’s a baby gift. Why not just bring it when I have the baby, instead of saying "HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY" with it. SO FUCKING WEIRD.  Of course, she told Dave "I have the slip if she doesn’t like it" which just puts one on the spot, who’s going to call and say "I hate this, where’s the receipt?" But it’s clearly from Walmart (tags still on) so I could just return it if I wanted, but then, ew. Walmart. Sigh. I fear that the announcement of the baby’s sex is going to lead to an onslaught of Princess and/or Lil Slugger themed clothes, neither of which I want to dress my kid in, as it will be neither a princess nor a lil silugger.  Lil’ blogger, maybe. But not a slugger. Argh.  Shouldn’t bitch about a gift, but it just symbolizes what I dread about future gifts, you know? Sigh.  It makes me feel like a selfish, snobby, bitch, but I can’t help it. I just can’t.

Anyway, baby in 48. WEIRD.