I was sooo tempted to work a line from the god-awful (and thankfully by now, COMPLETELY passe) Friday song by Rebecca Black into the title, but I decided I shouldn’t beat on that poor old rotten horse corpse anymore. It smells really bad, you guys.
What’s really bad is that all I have to say is “Friday, Friday” and Deven will respond with “gettin’ down on Friday.” Yes. Parent of the year right here.
Nothing special really happened today, except that I think everyone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or something. I woke up at 4:30 in the morning with an achy hip and contractions, and Deven had a really fussy, stubborn morning. Even the two kids from his class that I usually see in the morning were having a hard time. Maybe something is in the air, I don’t know.
I don’t know what our weekend is going to be looking like. I’ve been having contractions all day, though they have been pretty weak and inconsistent. Going into labor this weekend sure would be convenient for everyone involved, so lets keep those fingers crossed that these contractions are the beginning of the end.