Today I went to Target to get some newborn diapers. (By the fifth child, apparently you tend to be pretty laid back about things like being prepared for a baby's birth and homecoming). But I've been having so many contractions lately that I realized it'd be good to have some diapers smaller than size 5 around here.
There was a bunch of other stuff I needed to get too (laundry detergent etc.) Not too long into my excursion I started having contractions, which continued the whole time pretty much. Then in my attempt to check out, the teenaged checker miscounted my items, then overcharged me, was dealing with a couple in front of me who he'd ALSO overcharged...TWICE...because he made a mistake on their receipt AGAIN. I seriously contemplated having him reach out and feel my rock-hard, contracting uterus in hopes of getting him to hurry up, but I didn't. I somehow finally made it home and pretty much collapsed.
ALL of this to say that I'm "there." And by there, I mean that happy little place where you are just plain ready to go into labor and have the baby. I'm completely overheated, I'm CRANKY, I'm sick to my stomach and food doesn't appeal to me half the time...yep, I think I'm ready. :)
And so friends, it's ice cream time. I may not have a hospital bag packed, or a bassinet set up, but by golly my freezer is full of ice cream. It's all about priorities. Especially when you're "there."