(no subject)
My belly feels so heavy today and my little monkey has danced on my bladder, kicked my ribs, and made my navel move around in a manner most uncanny. Now he's back to the bladder and I fear it will be the site of his afternoon nap. Can it be August soon? Of course I am feeling a little weird about the whole delivery thing. And then the whole being a mom thing. Maybe a few more weeks of bladder pressure ain't so bad after all!
Last night our childbirth class toured Sharp Mary Birch Hospital. The labor rooms are pretty nice. They're private and are complete with dim lighting and comfy furniture. The post-partum units are nice too. Still, they're hospital rooms. The idea of being a patient scares me.
In other news, my freaky-ass neighbor is leaving for church camp tomorrow and I am going to be tending her cats. I don't mind. I love cats and really all I have to do is feed them. She did put me in a shitty situation though. Literally.
When she asked me to reprise my role as cat sitter I let her know that I'd be willing to take care of the food but that since I'm pregnant she'd need to make other arrangements on the litter box front. She agreed. Yesterday I went down to get the key and any instructions she might have. And found out she didn't get the poop pan covered as promised. A bit annoying since she's going to be gone eight days and has three cats. It's not really an option to just leave it, especially since her windows won't be open. Basically I'm going to have to ask Neil. I wanted to avoid doing that since he's been on litter detail here throughout my pregnancy and I know he'll gripe. The thing is, she didn't get anyone to clean the box because she kinda doesn't have anyone to ask. Or that's the sob story she told me anyway. I probably believe her because she's rather repellent. There's the nasal voice. And the endless Our Lord Jesus Christs. Not to mention the cheerful glee with which she volunteers information about her bathroom adventures ("Not all my jobbies went down when I flushed this morning.") She's a sad sack and I feel bad enough for her that I'll take care of the cats and make sure the box gets changed. But not bad enough to refrain from discussing in my lj. And sho not bad enough to accept her repeated invitations for Sunday afternoon tea and board games!
Last night our childbirth class toured Sharp Mary Birch Hospital. The labor rooms are pretty nice. They're private and are complete with dim lighting and comfy furniture. The post-partum units are nice too. Still, they're hospital rooms. The idea of being a patient scares me.
In other news, my freaky-ass neighbor is leaving for church camp tomorrow and I am going to be tending her cats. I don't mind. I love cats and really all I have to do is feed them. She did put me in a shitty situation though. Literally.
When she asked me to reprise my role as cat sitter I let her know that I'd be willing to take care of the food but that since I'm pregnant she'd need to make other arrangements on the litter box front. She agreed. Yesterday I went down to get the key and any instructions she might have. And found out she didn't get the poop pan covered as promised. A bit annoying since she's going to be gone eight days and has three cats. It's not really an option to just leave it, especially since her windows won't be open. Basically I'm going to have to ask Neil. I wanted to avoid doing that since he's been on litter detail here throughout my pregnancy and I know he'll gripe. The thing is, she didn't get anyone to clean the box because she kinda doesn't have anyone to ask. Or that's the sob story she told me anyway. I probably believe her because she's rather repellent. There's the nasal voice. And the endless Our Lord Jesus Christs. Not to mention the cheerful glee with which she volunteers information about her bathroom adventures ("Not all my jobbies went down when I flushed this morning.") She's a sad sack and I feel bad enough for her that I'll take care of the cats and make sure the box gets changed. But not bad enough to refrain from discussing in my lj. And sho not bad enough to accept her repeated invitations for Sunday afternoon tea and board games!