Time Keeps on Ticking, Ticking, Ticking...

Last night I left my bathroom uncleaned and a couple of piles of sorting for a yard sale so that I'd have something to do when I woke up with contractions and was in active labor. I perused the calendar and decided that based on J's scheduled days off, and the amount of time (or lack of) that he'll be able to take off, Sunday in the early afternoon would be a fantastic time to go into hard labor.

Until then, I'll just keep reciting each night: "Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my womb to reap. If I should dilate before I wake, I swear to Lord my child I'll take (to church when he's born)."

I have a feeling that all I'm going to end up with is a pile of crap in the loft and a scuzzy bathroom.

**I can just hear my mother, who refused to let us watch the Madonna video for Like a Prayer, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Sally that is sacrilege!