Curb Walking and Hitler

So we have this baby due in 8 days.  8 days doesn’t seem like much, but nonetheless we’re both getting pretty impatient, especially since as of 6 days ago, the doctor told us it could happen at any moment.  Which we took to mean it would happen right away, leading us to plan on having a baby this past weekend.  Which didn’t happen.  Leading to some interesting reactions.  Such as Liz deciding, rather adamantly, on Sunday morning that she wanted to punch something.  Or someone.  It started with wanting to punch the lady on the local news.  It ended with me hiding the cat in a closet.

For the first time ever, we washed every glass and dish and bowl and pot or pan in the house (so that when we came back from the hospital everything would be easy and nice).  We cleaned every surface and washed every article of clothing .  Then we’d sit and wait.  And wait.  And eat something.  Or wear something.  Then wash.  Then wait.

Liz got her toenails done.  She’s been shaving her legs twice a day.

Liz has also taken to curb walking, which a friend recommended and which I thought the friend had made up to mess with her, but I googled it and here’s a person from the internet doing it elegantly:

It’s supposed to induce labor.  It looks kind of silly, to be honest.

Sunday we decided that we were changing Thomas(the baby)’s name to Donald as a penalty for taking too long.  Donald Englebert.  The next day: Englebert Gaylord.  Then Gaylord Cuthbert.  At the end of the week, his name will be Hitler.  Hitler Judas.

So I haven’t been blogging for awhile…

So I haven’t been blogging for awhile, mostly because shortly after my last post I received notes back from my editor, and have been spending much of my not-at-work time working on my novel and little-to-no time on other things like keeping up with yardwork or grading or eating right or blogging.

But I sent the manuscript back this week and am looking forward to getting back into the blog swing of things.  I already know what my next post will be about:  cats.  Our cats.  I don’t have any actual data on this, but in my little mind I imagine something like sixty-two percent of all blog posts are about people’s cats.  In some the cats are metaphorical, but in some the cats are just cats.

P.S.  The big news since my last post is that my wife, Liz, and I have learned that we’re going to be parents.  We (possibly) learn the sex this coming week, and have names (first and middle) picked out for either possibility.  If I knew how to upload the grainy black-and-white photo from the freezer door to this webpage, I would.