Due date going, going...
September 7th has nearly left us, so our daughter is officially "late". Of course, late is a complete misnomer, given that the whole 40 weeks thing is just an estimate (arbitrarily decided in the early part of the 20th century), but there is still something about having a concrete date, and not hitting it.
We are being assiduous with our application of completely unvalidated home remedies to induce labor. Nicely summed up with "hot sex, hot food, hot bath". Somehow my taste buds have adapted because on Friday I wolfed down a vindaloo that my husband couldn't eat more than a bite from.
At least she didn't come yesterday on my birthday.
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Or I could come over and sing to babby! A few minutes of showtunes ought to get her popped out in no time so she can start screaming in hopes of drownding me out.