I know I originally told you that we were scheduled for an (attempted) induction this morning, but that has now been rescheduled for tomorrow morning. Yes, I’m serious.

Is anyone else starting to think that we’re nearing the two week overdue stage?

THAT’S CAUSE WE ARE GETTING CLOSER AND CLOSER AS THE DAYS, HOURS, MINUTES AND SECONDS ROLL BY.

I’m sorry. I just needed to get that out.

When Roomie told me about the rescheduling, I was pretty sad not only for my sake (HA!) but for her’s, too (see, that sounds better). But there is quite the silver lining to this rescheduling, if you want to know the truth…

I GET TO GO TO DISNEY ON ICE TONIGHT!!!

Back when we thought Baby would already have long been here, my dad surprised me with tickets to the performance in Knoxville tonight (more on the surprise in another post). I almost fell out of my chair because I LOVE DISNEY ON ICE.

And tonight? Tonight I shall be reunited with all manners of princesses skating their way directly into my heart while surrounded by thousands of 5 year old girls.

Sigh.

And since my dad gave me two tickets, I’ll give y’all one guess about who I’m taking with me. Here’s a hint though: there’s a little blonde girl walking into school with a princess backpack on right now that has no idea that, in a few hours, I’m picking her up, taking her to her favorite restaurant for dinner and then taking her to see the show she’s talked about forever.

I love my life.

A few people have asked me about my opinion on the election, especially who I’m voting for today. I keep my mouth zipped shut about politics, not only because I need to for Starlite’s sake, but also because I like to avoid arguments about politics in general.

What can I say? I’m a lover, not a fighter.

I will say this though: I have been attempting to perfect my Sarah Palin impression for weeks now. Whether you like her or not, you gotta admit that little wink thing she does is cute. And leaving the “g’s” off the ends of her words? My kind of gal.

And that brings me to this confession: during church this past Sunday, I definitely did my Sarah Palin impression DURING the service for Roomie’s enjoyment right there in pew 7.

Before you start typing your email to me, let me just explain something. First of all, church makes me nervous. A lot. I’ve gone to the same church for several years, so I’ve probably gone to at least 200 services there. I can honestly say that there’s only been about 3 times when I have left church without someone walking up to me to talk about Starlite. It is a fairly large church and I try to get in and out, but somehow, they always find me and proceed to tell me about how their niece’s best friend’s cousin’s sister didn’t get enough processed nacho cheese at last week’s program and the just thought I’d like to know, bless my little heart.

So far, I’ve resisted the urge to reply with “Why, I hate to hear that! You can make your donation check towards larger servings of processed nacho cheese out to Starlite Ministries. That’s S-t-a-r-l……”

Don’t get me wrong — I don’t mind talking about Starlite. To be honest, I’m kind of used to being interrupted during dinner out with friends or whatever — it doesn’t bother me. But church is a little different, especially when I feel a lot of eyes staring at me and my pregnant friend every Sunday morning. I’m sure half the people have no idea what our situation is and have come to the conclusion that I’m in an — how shall we say it? — alternative lifestyle relationship.

Thus, church makes me nervous.

I was particularly nervous this past Sunday morning not only because this older man to our left was giving us The Church Stare Of Death (aka Get Thyself To The Altar To Confess Thy Alternative Lifestyle Relationship Sins Immediately) but also because the couple sitting directly in front of us were, um, very affectionate. Which is weird, you know, when you’re in church.

And that’s why I felt the need to start doing my winking Sarah Palin impression to Roomie during points three and four of Sunday morning’s sermon. Apparently I am no Tina Fey however, because Roomie didn’t catch on and just thought that I was doing an exaggerated wink at her every few minutes.

Which come to think of it, may explain why the man to our left was ready to drag me to the altar.

There is no baby yet. And, if you know Roomie in real life, I would suggest not asking if she is just SO sick of being pregnant and just WHEN is she going to have that baby?

Just trust me on that one.

Here’s the deal: the drugs from last week haven’t sent her into labor so it’s unlikely that they’re going to at this point. We’re going to the doctor’s office on Wednesday morning where they will likely send us directly to the hospital to start things. Our doctor has already told us that he doesn’t let women go over one week past their due dates, so there’s no way he’ll let her go any longer.

Of course, there’s always the option that Roomie is making this whole pregnancy thing up and there’s really no baby in there at all. You be the judge.

Our weekend was pretty uneventful, at least compared to the idea of having a baby. When I got home from work on Friday night, there were no sounds coming from the Pregnancy Cave (aka her bedroom) so I decided to take a little nap.

Basically, I slept through Halloween. All of it. I know.

The next morning, there were still no signs of life coming out of the Cave, so I timidly ventured inside. There she lay in bed, still very pregnant. And so, I did what any of you would do: I told her to be ready at noon and walked out of the room.

I quickly came up with a plan that involved Cracker Barrel, because what good plan doesn’t include The Restaurant of All Restaurants? We then went to Target to pick up some things for Allie’s Starlite shower (more on this later), but somehow got sidetracked in the Halloween candy aisle. There were large 50% off signs everywhere and we felt it was our duty to dig through the pile to see if there were any Reese Cups left.

There were.

But there aren’t any left at our local Target in case you were wondering.

Interestingly, the Mint Three Musketeers are all gone as well.

And I have no idea who could have bought all of them.

Certainly not a 10 month pregnant woman and her enabling friend.

Certainly not.

(Just kidding. We only bought a bag.)

(Okay, two bags.)

(Some of which we gave away yesterday.)

(Which totally makes it okay.)

(Right?)

Sweet November,

I’d like to start out by saying how angry I am at your brother, that little teaser named October.  Listen, I know you’re not your brother’s keeper, but really? Are you aware that he didn’t deliver the goods this month?  We were hoping for a treat from him and instead he played an awful little trick on us.

I’m not too upset though, because if given no other choice, I’m glad it will be you bringing our bundle to the door even the package is late.  Is there any way you could send me a text to let me know when you’re planning on arriving?  I’ve got tickets to Disney On Ice and you know how I feel about princesses on ice skates.  I’m not sure I could handle the excitement of that and a trip to the hospital on the same day.

If you have to choose, though, I’ll take the baby.  He’s got nothing on all those princesses.

November, I don’t think I’ve told you this before but did you know that you hold my favorite holiday of the year in your 30 days?  And it isn’t because it involves turkey, because I think we both know I’m not a fan of it.

It’s because everyone gets together, with no gifts or greed needed.  Just families driving to meet each other, to have meals together, to love each other a little more, a little better than before.  You’ll take me to my mother’s house where she’ll pull that baby right out of Roomie’s arms and into her own before we even get through the front door.  You’ll drive me to my dad’s house where he’ll pretend to have no idea what to do with a baby in the house but, a few hours later, we’ll find him hunched over the car seat, making sure it’s perfectly situated before we leave for the drive home. You’ll give my grandmothers something to laugh about when we leave, the idea that two girls can properly take care of a baby by themselves.

You’ll give me something to look forward to as well, the day when I’ll eventually show up on their doorsteps with a baby of my own, a little bit of their DNA wrapped up in a soft blanket.

You’re bringing work with you; don’t try to hide it — I already know.  Hundreds of gifts, all for girls of different ages, colors and faces, needing to be bought and wrapped.  Your 30 days will never have seemed so short and yet so long at the same time as we check and recheck to make sure we bought enough lip gloss kits.

And as for what you’re doing in my heart already, on this first day of your arrival?

Well, I think you’ll earn your name this month, sweet November.

amy beth