Well, I made it through the weekend and am still pregnant. No false alarms, no warm up contractions, nothing. If it wasn’t for the increasing number of streach marks I’d be worried that maybe she’s stalled out. It appears, however, that she is continuing to grow. She’s just not ready to make her big entrance.

Now, normally, this wouldn’t be much of problem except we are having a heat wave like you wouldn’t believe. So far, it’s been in the 90’s all week and sticky hot. I like hot. I don’t like hot + 9 months pregnant. This is a bad combo. To beat the heat, I’ve started hosting my very own wet t-shrit contests. Yes, you heard me right. I get up, shower, dunk by maternity shirt under cold water, and then wear it until it dries at which point I take it off, dunk it again, and repeat process. Now, on a 22 year old co-ed, this might be a sexy thing. On a 30 year old hugely pregnant woman, it just doesn’t have the same effect. I think I caught the mailman delivering my mail with his eyes shut the other day to spar him this sight. But at this point, I don’t care what I look like just so long as I’m cool.

But don’t reserve all your sympathy for me. Instead, send it to poor Kevin who has to deal with my irritability and unreasonable demands. For the last few nights, I’ve decided that light bulbs generate too much heat so every time poor Kevin tries to turn on a light he gets his head snapped off. I found him rummaging for a flashlight last night in order to read his book. I’ve even curtailed our nightly kiss goodnight as I cannot bear to be touched by a hot person. He’s taking it all in stride, however, but I think I heard him talking to my stomach last night pleading with Mini-Me to hurry up and get here.

Everyone tells me I’m crazy. That I should enjoy these last few days of solitude and freedom from an infant. That all too soon, I’ll look back and this time and shake my fists at the sky and curse myself for not enjoying my last “me” time. Maybe so but right now, I’d give Kevin’s left ear and both of his pinky toes if I’d make this kid hop into action. And, if the weather man is correct and we’re headed for another week of 90 degree temp, I might even through all the eyelashes on Kevin’s right eye.

So that’s where we stand. Hot and massively pregnant with no end in sight. More to come…. hopefully soon!