37 long weeks

Here I am, 37 weeks. Technically full term, but you wouldn't know it by hanging out with me. Babies are still active, and doing great at their NSTs, but no signs whatsoever of impending labor. Yet my feet are still giant marshmallows, and now my ankles and calves are included. I dread seeing the scale at the OB tomorrow.

Life in general is good, though. While it has been TWO MONTHS and the damn contractors STILL haven't finished the bathroom, at least they've made enough progress so that I can tell that it's looking good. They still have to put on the cabinet doors and hardware, finish tiling around the edges (the "baseboard"), grout, install the shower and sink faucets and the toilet, put up the glass shower doors, install the mirror, install the light fixtures, and I guess install towel bars, which no one has talked to me about, so I don't know what's going on with that. That's a lot of stuff, considering that first they were supposed to be done last Wednesday, then by the end of this week (and all along they've assured us it would be done by the end of June). I am starting to wonder if we'll have a kitchen in time for Christmas, and I've completely given up on the idea of having Thanksgiving here.

My mother's helper has been coming almost full-time (which is actually part-time, since we hired her for 20 hours per week). It was great for helping with unpacking and cleaning and getting our old apartment straightened out and such, but I've started running out of things for her to do. These days I'm having her mow the lawn and plant ground-cover, and might have her clean the garage. I feel bad, but I know she needs the work and the money, and until the babies come I am just a stay-at-home wife who doesn't have that much to do. I'm also not all that comfortable having someone around just to help me, although I admit it has been a blessing for anything involving hard labor or heavy lifting.

And now here I am, waiting and twiddling my thumbs and swimming and not sleeping and trying to fit into some of my regular clothes because I'm SO SICK of my maternity clothes and I'm not going to buy anything new at 37 weeks. The nurse today told me that hospital protocol is much better for 38-weekers than for 37-weekers, so my current goal is to get to July 7 (or 9, since the 8th is my mom's birthday) and at least that way I have a date to aim for. And then I want my body back. Got it, babies? They are incredibly stubborn, just like their father. And still strong, too - their kicks and movements are unbelievable and sometimes painful. Well, only a week to go! Please!