So i had a snarktastic entry written. I know I'm way behind- I was out of town, then I was a lazyass, yadda yadda, but right now, I don't feel like posting the snarktastic entry and I don't feel like being sparkling and witty.

I just spent a joyous 4 and a half hours in the swankyswoo maternity ward at my local hospital, cause I blew a series of contractions from 5-8 am. I'm at the point in pregnancy where yes, I should be having braxton-hicks contractions, which are so mild as to be easily missed, last 20-30 seconds apiece, taper off after 1-2 hours, and are irregular.

Mine were 4 minutes long. Apiece. Every 10-12 minutes. I felt like i had done 8 gerbillion situps with no discernible effect on my waistline. Of course, as soon as we got to the hospital, they stopped- the magic car ride effect or something- becoming standard B-H lasting 30 seconds apiece. On the bad side, the contractions had been bad and hard enough to confuse my body and begin to think the show was a-comin in a few weeks, and so now I'm on limited activity, for god knows how long, and who knows what this will do to our january vacation plans, and so much for flying about the country consulting in Jan and Feb, no way jose. Less. Than. No. Fun.

So yeah, that's my world today. Terrified out of my freakin skull, lying on the couch. The lad has of course leapt to the 'we're cancelling our vacation you're going to wind up on full bed rest at some point fuck fuck fuck!' freakout point immediately, and is now starting to calm down. We won a radio contest and had a shindig to go to tonight, and so we're bailing. We are having cookies and nog and friends tomorrow night, and so people have been lovely and are bringing cookies so i don't need to stand and bake. I am being a slug this weekend. I am not helping the Lad shovel compost. I am being a very good little patient; lest the lad kick my ass into next week. Course if he did that, christmas would be here that much sooner.

Heh.