Monday, October 18 - last day teaching in a Minneapolis classroom
Tuesday, October 19 - last day of volleyball
Friday, October 22 - baby's due date according to my doctor
Monday, October 25 - baby's due date according to me
As far as I'm concerned, baby needs to stay where she is for one more week, but anytime on or after the 20th is fine by me. Is it too much to hope for just one more week of pregnancy? I'm ready to be done being pregnant!
To be fair, this trimester has been much easier than my 3rd trimester with Romelie. Last time around, I had horrible heartburn and acid reflux, carpal tunnel to the extreme so that I had to wear wrist guards, back and hip pain so bad I had to sleep on the couch...this time around, I feel more tired than I remember feeling with Rom (though the fact that Rom is here this time around could have something to do with it!) and I still get pretty nauseated in the morning. I don't throw up but feel like I could some days, so I have to lie down after eating breakfast until that feeling goes away. But comparatively, not too bad. All in all, I'm feeling healthy, and I feel lucky for that.
By the way, since I work with kids for all three of my jobs, here are some sound bites I've heard lately:
4th grade girl - Are you going to have a baby?
Me - I am.
4th grade girl - Is it a girl?
Me - She is.
All 4th grade boys in the class - Awww!!!! (As in "boo," not as in "aww fer cute!")
Random boy walking past me in the hallway at a school - Let me guess. You're pregnant.
Me - Yup.
Random boy to his friend - Knew it. (Like I'm trying to hide it?)
Random boy on a field trip to the museum - You look pregnant.
Me - I am. (Uh...thank you?)
Also, all of my volleyball players call me Waffles. Why? Because everyone got nicknames. I'm preggo. Like leggo my Eggo. Like Eggo waffles. Hence...waffles. And because I'm pregnant, the baby also gets a name - Chicken. Together we are Chicken and Waffles. Seriously, no one calls me Danni or Coach Dancer or just Coach...they call me Waffles. I kind of like it.
Rom, pointing to a scratch on her face: I got an owie.
Me: How did that happen?
Rom: Pointer did it.
Translation - she accidently scratched herself with her pointer finger. Hence, it's Pointer's fault.
Romelie is a pretty funny kid. She has a memory like you wouldn't believe and she becomes fixated on the strangest things, so we really have to watch what we say to her. For example, one time I put on her coat and I said I wasn't going to button the top button because I didn't want it to pinch her neck. Now every single time we put on that coat - Mom, don't button the top button; I don't want it to pinch my neck. She also learned somewhere that green means go, yellow means slow down, and red means stop. Now I hear it at every single stoplight. Mom, the light's red - you have to stop. Green means go, yellow means--yeah, Rom, I get it. Thank you.
Yup. That's what she said.
Ah, almost three years old. Bring on the "kids say the darndest things" moments. I'm ready.
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