This morning was spent picking up the remnants of the night before, something I failed to do before bed time as we decided to beg a favor out of the grandparents and steal away for a movie. So after we dropped him off and swung by Sonic, off we went with my purse stuffed full of burgers, onion rings and coke. The movie was a Will Ferrell/Mark "hey donkey" Wahlberg collaboration and I had high hopes I tell you, high hopes that were squashed flat. Aside from a few choice one liners it was easily forgettable. In fact, I spent the majority of the time shifting positions uncomfortably and trying to figure out whether or not this baby was actually trying to claw his way out or if I just had gas.
Contractions are lost on me. I mean I know what they feel like, but Paul is dead convinced that I'll probably have this kid on the bathroom floor because I can't decide whether or not it's the real thing. Yes, the Hub's real name is Paul. I'm sick of calling him Hub so I guess he gets to be himself again. Don't worry, I'll still crack short jokes. That's what I do, it's who we are.
Let me tell you about the best part of going to see a movie. It's the end where we go to pick the kid back up and he runs to us arms wide open, and face lit up like he hasn't seen us in ten years. I like that part. It's my favorite.
I have a bunch of work to do but I can't seem to make myself attempt it in the lull of the afternoon. Plus I've realized I do my best at night, late, when everyone else is asleep and there's nothing around to distract me. Like cookie dough brownies, or Mockingjay. Yeah, I finished it finally, and I liked it in the end. Plus that pregnancy induced insomnia has finally started to set in so I'm up anyway, whether I want to be or not. How I escaped it for so long this time around is beyond me, just lucky I guess.
A 3 day weekend is ahead, sweet.
On my docket: a trip to Kneaders for pumpkin bread and possibly a pedicure. It's that time after all, any joiners?