with child, at 36 weeks

Chris and I have this great Indian restaurant nearby that we've been frequenting since last fall.  They do this glorious buffet on the weekends, and I get the most magical belly-full of paneer and masala and such.  We have the best conversations when we go for lunch at this Indian Palace, starting from when we first found out we were going to have a kid and would spend the whole time just imagining it all, until now, when we spent our last trip there a few weeks ago nailing down all the final ideas for the babe's room.  We sketched where each piece of furniture would go, and the artwork we'd hang and where, and finalized all the little details.

And then I tried to eat the same amount I ate before I grew this big belly (see below) and regretted it when I had to essentially lean back just to walk comfortably.  So of course, it was the perfect time to check out the new Asian grocery market that opened a few doors down from our Indian food mecca.

We spent a solid forty minutes enraptured by all of the treats and fruits and veggies we hadn't seen for nearly a year.  There was a lot of fast-walking/waddling to the different parts of the store as we squealed with joy. (I did the waddling, Topher the walking.)

We bought some rambutan and generally just walked around marveling like tourists.  Because that's apparently who this kid's parents are- two weirdos who get really excited by finding the same soy sauce we used while living in Cambodia and take pictures with durian to show our host family.

At this point, I feel like we should pause here and have a short discussion about how strip malls have the best ethnic food.  I mean, its an unequivocal fact.  The little strip mall where I took said picture above houses this amazing food market, a frequently busy Korean BBQ place, a pho restaurant and our Indian place.  There must be something about the space you can find in these long stretches of retail space that attract amazing people who want to share the amazingness that is food from their homeland.  I've cracked the code!

….

So, this baby reached a gestational age of 36 weeks Friday.  I celebrated by falling as I left for work, and promptly sprained (minor!) my left ankle and mayhaps broke something in my right.  I may be writing this from the couch with my righty in some fiberglass cast/splint thing, awaiting confirmation at the orthopedist tomorrow.  Can we just talk about how fun it is to be massively pregnant and trying to use crutches?  I'll admit I'm horrible at crutches anyway, both because I've never had to use them but twice now as an adult, and because my impatience doesn't like to stand for the slow movement required to use them properly.

I'm basically my husband's worst nightmare right now.   As helpless as I was before my klutzy self fell, I'm now even more so.  Sitting on a couch all day, getting up to pee every hour, hobbling on one crutch because I basically refuse the other, wanting to do more and just getting in the way- and then, of course, being frustrated by it all, and having a the worst little mood rear it's ugly head every once in while.  I'm going to owe this husband of mine big time in a few months.

So, it's not that I'm wanting this little babe to come early… I mean, keep cooking kid, as long as you need… but, well, I'm ready to be able to bend in half again, and sleep on my stomach, and pee only when my bladder is actually full.  Typical 36 week feelings, I'd guess.

Thank goodness for a full marathon of Harry Potter movies on this weekend.  It's the small things!