Australian Builder came over on Saturday, looked at me, and said, "This racing the baby is really stressing me out."
He's one of these big, strong, macho types. The kind of guy whose idea of a touchy-feely conversation is sharing a bottle of scotch. But this kid has him frazzled.
"You know what one of my other clients said to me?"
"That babies can be two weeks early! You could have this baby next week!"
I'm not going to say he got shrill, because he doesn't have a high voice. But this baby, she's stressing him out. They're almost done, though. Now, the odds of her being early, everyone has said, are very low. Which I didn't tell him. Because the construction, it needs to end.
We need to clean and move Jordan back to his room and put dressers in place and put clothes in dressers. We have to get a mattress. We still have to buy a car seat.
Still much to do!
All that said, ooh, I'd be delighted. I think I'm holding it together better this time, in that I'm not just sitting up on the top floor weeping into my iced drinks and refusing to come down. So there's that. But I'm glad to be counting down more in days than weeks at this point.
This morning I walked into the kitchen at work and two of my colleagues burst out laughing.
"The look! On your face! Is just so 'fuck off'!"
It's true. I know I walk around all Stay. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Way. And don't you hurry up to get in front of me on the sidewalk. Don't even think you're faster than me just because I'm pregnant. And if you brush against my belly I will cut you.
Is kind of how it is now.
The other day a woman got into the elevator after me and turned around, moving backwards. I saw her backpack heading for my stomach and without even thinking about it, I squawked loudly and my hand shot out and I pushed her forward. Because, owie hurty tender!
I know that particularly at the end of the day I'm really slow when I cross streets, but if I'm at a zebra crossing, I still give impatient cars the stinkeye. They're supposed to stop for pedestrians, no matter how slow and waddly.
Older women tend to be nicer. Cab drivers and bus drivers are typically nice about stopping and letting you go. It's usually the early-20s men and women who are dicks and only stop at the last minute because you're in the street. You're clearly inconveniencing them.
I give them this semi-sneer you try being all hugely pregnant don't fucking run me over and PS I hate you kind of look.
That said, I don't just fling myself out into the crosswalk if it looks like someone isn't going to stop. But in that case, I do my best to catch their eye. And then I narrow my eyes and mouth "ASSHOLE" as clearly as possible.
It's like temporary Tourette's or something. I can't seem to stop myself.