After this weekend, the real countdown can begin. As of yesterday, we had six weeks left until the unlikely-to-be-punctual arrival of BabyKer. I have other plans for his birth date however, and none of them involve me still being pregnant during the 3rd week of February. Nine months is entirely too long to be pregnant. And it's ten months, if anyone's really counting. It's not just normal months, either. Each month is the kind that lasts at least seven to eight weeks in perceptive time (and perception is reality) and so by mid-February, I will have been pregnant for most of my 30's and that is just ridiculous. I cannot believe elephants are pregnant for two years. It's even more surprising that we still have elephants. I'm going to high five the next elephant I see and offer to rub her feet.
While it's still January, I'm going to lay down some resolutions for myself. Maybe if I write it here and make it public, I'll actually stick with a few of them.
- Get back to my pre-pregnancy weight MINUS another ten pounds by summer. If this is accomplished, I'll spend the remaining six months getting into Jillian Michaels shape.
- Find a church that I like, ignore my grandmother's criticisms of it, and attend on a regular basis.
- Become more tolerant. Of everything. Including my grandmother.
- Stop allowing people to disappoint me and surround myself with people who respect me.
- Move into a HOUSE.
- Build new friendships with people not being referred to in #4.
- Learn how to relax and not worry so much.
And no, none of those involve BabyKer. That is because anything pertaining to him will be life-long, not just this year. I'm sure I'll have plenty for that list once he is born. Right now, I just want him to be born healthy and perfect and to not kill me in the process.