Two More Weeks to Granddaughter #3!

Tuesday was a wonderful day! It was the sort of spring day that made you happy to be alive. It was the sort of day to run nekkid through the yard chasing butterflies in the breeze. You’ll be happy to know that I resisted the urge to run nekkid through the yard out of consideration for the neighbors, but it was difficult. Plus, the yellow flies are beginning to buzz about, and there are places where I’d prefer not to have the painful, itchy bites. That was actually more of a deterrent than the neighbor sensibilities, come to think of it.

I washed laundry and hung it on the line to dry. I fed livestock. I washed breakfast dishes, then vacuumed the house. After all those chores were done, I allowed myself to have fun. I went to the beach. I went to thrift stores looking for clothes for granddaughter #3. I tried calling a friend to meet me for lunch, but she was still in Germany. (How long can you stay in Germany, anyway? Come home so I don’t drink Margaritas alone! Geez! Why do I have to be the poor friend? Oh, right. Unemployment.) I met another friend when I was at a nursery looking at things to plant and kill, and we talked right there between the plants for over two hours, taking up real estate and parking, and finally each of us ended up buying a couple bags of of dirt that was on clearance for half off. DEFINITELY chalk that up to a loss in the retail column for that establishment.

I called my husband to find out what type of dead meat he’d like to have charred on the grill that night for dinner. “I’b so siiiiick! Just get me sub soup from the Chinese place.” Well. That was easy! Then I realized that I hadn’t talked to my daughter about her after-work doctor’s appointment, so I called to see how that was going.

“I guess you haven’t talked to dad!” she said. “But when I called, he sounded like he was out of it.”

“Yeah, he has some kinda near lethal killer cold virus. Probably MERS!” I told her. “I’m trying to avoid being in the same room with him if at all possible because I don’t want to be sick when Lila is born.”

“Then he didn’t mention I was in the hospital?”

“WHAAAAAAAAAT?” I dunno, you would think that he would mention such a thing about his only daughter, but I suppose he was too busy contemplating his own mortality and the prospect of dying from a cold virus four days before school was out for the summer. Don’t get me wrong, that would suck, but still. I’d have to speed over to the other side of town to care for Zoe, Dylan, and Jacob should she get an emergency c-section, too.

“Yeah, I was having contractions that I didn’t even feel at the doctor’s office so they put me in the hospital. Hopefully they’ll stop because I need my paycheck plus I get five paid days off over Memorial Day weekend (including the weekend) AND I WANT MY VACATION, DAMNIT!”

So, the contractions stopped. She went home. People where she works are scared to death the baby is just going to rip its way out of her tummy and start screaming something like “FEED ME, Seymour!” because her belly, after five pregnancies, needs its own zipcode. She intends to work through the day before delivery, but I dunno.

So, today I’ve been sitting inside near the phone for half the day, waiting to see what happened at this doctor’s appointment. They’ll do measurements and guesstimate her (Lila’s!) weight and gestational age again. I was getting alarmed that I hadn’t heard anything because it’s nearly 11:30 a.m. I was worried about going outside to hang up another load of laundry to dry in case I miss her call. I haven’t even vacuumed or ran the dishwasher. Then I realized that this is THURSDAY. Her appointment is FRIDAY.

D’oh.

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