Here's where I look at the clock and say to myself, "Oh, crap!" Only half an hour to make my post.
Today I've been preoccupied with other things besides all the wonderful writing ideas in my head. For instance, I woke up this morning feeling like I was coming down with a cold. Snuffly and drippy with a side order of bleeding dry (?) nose. Yet I was not sure of what to eat OR does myself with given my upcoming test, so... I ate a little (non-sweetened) bran flake cereal, drank a little (non-contraindicated) herbal tea and went back to bed.
I dragged myself awake two hours later, got myself presentable for the public, and went off for my latest OB appointment wherein my doctor told me that *this* time she sounded like a girl (ha! unlike three months ago), experimentally shoved my uterus around (cool!), measured me (just right for my gestation) and pronounced me good to go.
Oh, did I mention that this was the day that I drank the super-sweet Glucola stuff? The nurse came in with two bottles, and just as I was about to ask her how much of it I had to drink, she told me my dose was only *half* a bottle, but that I had to drink it down within two minutes from start to finish. Internets, why do you scare me so? The stuff was not bad. I repeat: tolerable! I've eaten pie that was sweeter! And then I felt fine, just fine. Mr. Sweetie was the one who was famished and begged my granola bar to offset his lack of lunch. And I was just fine. Of course, I had a modest lunch beforehand, so I was not chugging the stuff on an empty stomach. What the internets did not tell me was that I wasn't allowed to even drink any water in the hour following. Yikes.
Then after the timed blood draw, we were on our was to nosh on a proper lunch, both of us. And the counter lady knew immediately about the Glucola! I was just amazed that she picked up on my condition under all my fleece. She said: Girl, pleeease! You're rockin'! And then she told us about her oldest baby, who is 17 years and 6 feet, and still asking her advice about college admissions.
Devoured a grilled cheese and some delish "gypsy soup" (tomatoes, chickpeas, and squash), and THEN drove over to the next city/suburb to make headway on my errands. Some approved cold medicine (just in case), Christmas truffles (for family stockings), and some fab Christmas cards (starting my pre Xmas list). Looove that tastefully-accented-with-glitter look!
And then home to reconvene with Mr. Sweetie and head in the *other* direction of the region for our first childbirth class. Six couples, all on their first children, three of us due within the same week (yes!), and most of us willing to admit our trepidations. The instructor said she cut and chopped the curriculum to make sure we spent part of every class on the vital stuff, not necessarily spending two whole hours on a single topic that would bore us or overwhelm us. Mr. Sweetie got a "coach point" right away and when asked if he even knew there were going to be coach points (and what they were), he said, No, but we want them! Lots of humor. It was good. All the Dads were all clearly cool people. Still getting to know the other Moms. The instructor tossed us "golden nipples" (chocolate kisses with almonds) for coming up with advantages for breast-feeding. Learning plus chocolate! Plus protein and color illustrations. We can see that there is a definite bias towards the natural childbirth in the class, but not annoyingly so. That's what it's all about anyway. We are all there to learn.
And no! I'm still! Awake! Or maybe it's the brownie! See? It's my OMG-I-don't-have-time-to-write-a-NaBloPoMo-post kind of day. Off to bed.