At around 4:30 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning, J and I heard what sounded like a car hitting a trashcan outside our house. He peeked through our bedroom window and saw a white VW furiously reversing out of our neighbor's driveway. We didn't think much of it and went back to bed.
After we finished our walk Thanksgiving morning, J and I saw what the car had really hit:
Yeah, that would be my Mom's brand new car, parked on the street in front of our house. Legally, I might add.
Happy Thanksgiving from the jerk who hit my Mom's car and then took off. P.S. - You left your door handle behind.
Don't worry, we gave it to the cops for safekeeping. Perhaps you didn't realize there was a serial number on the back of it?
Fortunately, no one was hurt (at least no one in our family - can't speak for the driver) and my Mom has insurance, so it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. Annoying, yes, but certainly not the end of the world.
So here I am ten days from my due date:
This is what I looked like at 9 weeks pregnant . Dang. Clearly, I've been hitting the ice cream pretty hard. I do feel like most of my weight gain has been my stomach, but I'm still really swollen in my hands and feet and even my face looks bigger. Eh. Whatever. Pass the cookies.
Due date anxiety has definitely set in. I'm feeling a lot of pressure, Braxton-Hicks and cramping, but I've decided that she has no interest in coming out anytime soon. I won't go past 41 weeks, so I have no more than 17 days left until she arrives. I'm just praying for patience.
In the meantime, J and I have been going on tons of dates, going to dinner, and trying to get out of the house as much as possible. We realize that we won't be going anywhere for a long, long time.
Nesting has also kicked in, big time. I cleaned out the entire kitchen, reorganized every drawer in the house, and alphabetized my spice racks. Then I redid our entire living room, including moving the couch and TV. I've also washed every article of clothing we own and cleaned out the linen closet. Somebody stop me.
I also made six dozen cookies for our nurses. You think that'll be enough?
As a side note, as delivery approaches (hopefully):
I won't be tweeting/facebooking/blogging anything about her birth until we are home from the hospital.
My Mom's car fiasco was an unpleasant reminder that not everyone in this world is honest. My brother-in-law is a cop and cautioned us against posting anything even before the hit-and-run happened. We don't want the whole world to know we aren't at home. Secondly, J and I both want her birth to be private and frankly, I'm still undecided as to how much I'm going to write about her. I guess I won't know until she's here how I feel. I'm sure I'll do a birth story post, but I'm not decided on how much I'll share. The internet is forever, after all. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.