Make haste, fair maiden

Okay. I AM that pregnant lady.

I'm tired.

I'm cranky.

I'm hormonal.

I'm stressed.

My back hurts.

My feet are swollen.

I could care less that I've eaten an entire batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies over the past week basically all by myself.

I don't want to say it, but I'm going to say it.

I'm ready for this to be over and I want my body back.

So there. I've said it. Time for Speedy to live up to her uterine name and get moving. I mean, it's not like Steve and I are at all MENTALLY prepared for any of this, but physically, it's about time.

As far as all the old wives' tales that are supposed to help (walking, spicy food, etc) I eat spicy food, because I like to anyway, and then I get ranging heartburn. I take the dog for a walk, because, well, I don't have a choice, and my feet just hurt and he looks up at me with this look of Mom, you are walking so freaking slow, we should have stayed home and I could have gotten more exercise burying my bone.

And I'm sick on top of it - did I mention that? Yes, I have a runny nose, a hacking cough, and more snot and mucus than any one person need have at this point in time.

Alright. I'm done kvetching.

But if you have a second, sent some labor vibes my way.