not holding my breath

Good morning! It's been a really slow morning around here. I basically just now got out of bed, and there's no excuse for that. It's rainy and dreary here, but that normally doesn't make me want to stay in bed all day like most people. Ok, maybe it does. And maybe I just want to stay in bed all day, regardless, but still. Derick left a little early for a meeting this morning, and as soon as he walked out the door, Parisann started whining and making a scene. She jumped out of bed, and I put her back in, which only made her whine louder. So we got up, and I scarfed down a granola bar and took a swig of the caffeine free Diet Coke my dad conveniently left here last night. I grabbed a treat in one hand and Paris in the other and marched back to bed at 7a.m. I gave Paris her "breakfast in bed," and she continued to whine a little, so I rubbed her belly. She finally chilled the heck out around 7:30, curled up in a ball on Derick's pillow and went to sleep. I've been awake ever since. 
I think her problem was that she saw her favorite people in the whole world yesterday, Momo and Popo, and she woke up with a faint memory of them and the chicken they brought for her and it made her really anxious. They are staying in their camper at Cherry Point, which is about an hour from here. It's so nice to have them close, and Paris is in Heaven when they are here. She gets all sorts of goodies and extra long walks. 
I leashed her up after her real breakfast a little earlier, and we walked outside. My dog, who's as prissy as they come and normally hates the rain, trotted out into the downpour like it was nothing. I think she was on a mission to find her grandparents...or maybe she was just hunting the deer and the "gifts" they leave her all over our yard. It was almost an issue to get her back inside, but she finally obeyed and is now perched on the couch, peeping out the window.
Today, I am apparently 34 weeks and 1 day along in my pregnancy. There was a little confusion a couple of weeks ago when we got our 3D ultrasound, and the technician implied that I was a little ahead of schedule, but after talking to a different nurse, they don't change due dates, regardless of measurements. Makes sense because they would be changing due dates left and right since babies grow at different rates. 
I'm feeling pretty good overall. It's definitely getting a little cramped in there, and my body is feeling the added weight and change. I can't complain at all though. The last half of the pregnancy (so far) has been very enjoyable and uncomplicated. I walk every day, and I don't have a ton of pain, although the past few days, I've been feeling some strange, new things going on. I'm guessing that's just part of the cycle, and I'm trying not to rush to the hospital for false alarms. Last week, I walked nearly three miles at once with my friends, and the Saturday before that, Derick, Paris and I walked on a nature trail near our house. It was a long walk, and Derick likes to undercut me and say it wasn't as long as I imagine. However, if I compared that walk to my near three-miler, I'd say the nature walk was at least three, if not more. Kiss it, Derick. I'm right.
Miraculously, my house is clean other than the unmade bed and a few dishes in the sink. Maybe that's why I felt it was ok to just lay in bed until 9:15 reading the drama on all the Camp Lejeune Yard Sale sites. The tasks never really end, though, because I need to run to the commissary and buy groceries. Although the commissary is now less than a five-minute drive, it's still a chore to get ready, drive there, fight the crowd of crazy Marines and their families, stand in line, tip the bagger and decline his/her offer to wheel out my groceries despite that I'm 8 months pregnant because I'm a total B.A. and don't need no help, yo, put the groceries in the car and kick myself for not accepting the bagger's offer, drive home, bring the groceries inside, and put them all away. It's so much easier when Derick is around to help, but if I'm not cleaning today, the least I can do is stock the kitchen. 
Speaking of kitchen, my current eating habits are laughable when compared to my habits earlier this year. I remember puking my guts up because I'd licked an ice cube. Those were the days, and I can't help but smile and cringe a little when I recall everything I've eaten at the end of each day. It's not that I'm always hungry, though I do get hungrier faster these days, but I just always feel like eating. We've gone out for ice cream the past four nights, and I'm not going to gripe if Derick decides we should just make it five. 
Apparently, Reeve is a big boy and that's probably thanks to my pig-like eating as of late. But I've heard of so many stories about doctors telling parents that they are "going to have a nine pound baby," only for the day to come and they are handed a nice, healthy seven-pounder. I've also heard the exact opposite, so I'm not holding my breath. At the 3D ultrasound, they told us Reeve weighed nearly six pounds. That was three weeks ago. Either way, whether he's seven pounds or seventeen pounds, we are going to love every teeny inch of his sweet self. We already do.
I understand now why pregnant ladies get so irritated toward the end of their pregnancy. I'm not irritated, but I sure am anxious. I keep looking at calendars, hoping to count fewer days and weeks. Now that everything is ready for his arrival, it's getting more difficult to just wait. I'm ready to see his little face and hold his tiny hands. Although I'm sure he gets sick of me saying, "aren't you so ready for him to be here?!" I know Derick is pretty anxious, too. He's been having serious discussions with Reeve about the appropriate time for him to make his debut. If he works it right, Derick could have a lot of vacation time. I met one of Derick's fellow LTs last week, and she told me that all Derick ever talks about is what day he wants the baby to be born so that he can get a significant amount of days off. Sorry, Reeve, your dad already has an agenda.
Well, I've blabbed about absolutely nothing for long enough. I'm going to go finish that Dt. Coke...that was definitely the first time I've used that phrase in my life...and then I'm going to lay on the couch for a few minutes before gathering all my energy for the commissary. Enjoy the rain! Or sun! Either way!:)