I'm going to be induced on Thursday, so baby will most likely come sometime Friday, unless he decides to surf that amniotic fluid into the world earlier (I start being induced around 5pm Thursday and I'm supposed to sleep overnight at the hospital and give birth Friday).
My natural reaction is not to be excited and squeal-y, but to use lots of profanity and look out the window in awe. Yep. I don't think it will really hit me until I'm in the middle of labor. The whole thing is surreal. And I get to parent? Let me rephrase that: God/The Universe somehow is allowing me to parent. With Bryan. I'm humbled, awed, and a little confused by the whole thing. Shouldn't we require permits or something for this? Seems like a pretty big deal. I have to show proof of residency to get internet hooked up. I mean. Yeah.
I'm on bedrest, but only for 2.5 days. Which pretty much means it's like an exxxtttraaaa weeeeeekend. I am not supposed to do stuff (like cook or clean or move much from off the bed or couch) and I'm feeling both incredibly lazy and like I should be getting shiz DONE. Which I am not.
On the other hand, I've watched Glee, eaten some cinnamon swirl crunch bread, had a cup of tea, and had four cookies. So. There's that.
Also: according to my doctors, who weigh me in full clothes/shoes/cellphonecarryingstuff mode, I've gained thirty pounds.
According to my ridiculously weight gain graph that I use every other day or so, I'm at exactly 24 pounds. Eat it, doctor's office. No one really weighs themselves in full clothes. We do things the civilized way: you only weigh in the morning. Naked. After your morning poop. Duh.
So that means that I can gain a full pound of cookies in the next 2.5 days. Yeah. Bring it on lemon cookies. Apple cinnamon cookies. Orange cranberry cookies. UNF. So good.
Also, I should be preparing by meditating, doing my Hypnobabies course and thinking happy thoughts, or something. I'm sure. But so far I'm just playing on the internet. Lalala. I'll have a human life to contend with at the end of the week. Gotta soak up the lazy, irresponsible moments now.
In completely other news: I have a compulsion to buy any perfume/cologne sample that promises to smell like Earl Grey. It's true. I used to swear by The Morbid The Merrier's "Morton," but the shop has since closed and there was all sorts of hullabaloo with orders not being filled. It took almost a full year to get my refund back from an order I placed before they closed.
But now... now I am back in the "I need to buy crap on Etsy that smells pretty" train. My new favorite is Alkemia Perfume's "Arcanum," perfumed oil. It's delicious. Alkemia sells really interesting and diverse perfumes, and they have an incredibly lovely habit of sending samples with your order. LOVE! Arcanum is one of the many perfumes I've sampled so far, and I love it the most. Here's the description:
An enigmatic yet compelling blend of seductive eastern spices, aged patchouli, and sandalwood. Frankincense, nag champa, and dragons blood deepen the mystery.
YUM. It's less head-shop smelly than the "Hippy Gypsy" perfume Alkemia sells, and has less of the slightly cleaner-esque hint that "Sanguinea" carries. I am in love with it. This is the sort of patchouli blend that wouldn't make my friend Lindsay run for the hills. She sort of hated when I wore patchouli and gardenia back in college because she thought it smelled like straight up dirt. Or something worse, I'm not sure. I was in LOVE with it, but I get that each scent smells different to different people. I think Arcanum has enough spiciness and nag champa to keep it from smelling too dirty.
And my newest interest (relating to the previous ramble about Earl Grey) is Sweet Tea Apothecary's "Dead Writers" perfume/cologne.
J.T., our fabulous apothecary, describes the scent as such:
This blend evokes the feeling of sitting in an old library chair paging through yellowed copies of Hemingway, Shakespeare, Fitzgerald, Poe, and more. The Dead Writers blend makes you want to put on a kettle of black tea and curl up with your favorite book. This bottle contains black tea, vetiver, clove, musk, vanilla, heliotrope, and tobacco. It can be worn by either sex.
On her blog, she goes into more detail:
Do you wear patches on your elbows and sit in dimly lit rooms drinking black coffee or tea smoking packs of clove cigarettes (Djarum Blacks)? If this describes you, or you’re just the type of person who prefers a “dirty perfume” then put some of this on before you head out to work on that novel at the local coffee shop. Dead Writers is musky and has a stale smoke smell. It is lightened by some vanilla and heliotrope (a flower that in combination with the vanilla smells like a sweet milk creamer you might add to your tea). If you’ve never had a musky perfume and want to live dangerously without smelling homeless, go for the Georgiana.Now. I have an issue with wanting my perfumes dirty, and I love the scent of tea in perfumes. The issue is that I need and want and gah.
I also decided to pick up a sample of Georgiana, which is supposed to smell like this:
Are you a lady who dresses for dinner and… I can’t think of anything clever, basically you are Dowager Countess Maggie Smith elegance. Georgiana literally smells like a cup of Earl Grey tea. It’s my most subtle perfume and has a soft, sultry, smokiness that is perfect for an evening on the town. I wear this one when I want to be fancy. If you were interested in the smokiness of Dead Writers but don’t want to overdo it with the musk, then Georgiana is the one for you. The bergamot really brightens it up and it smells more feminine.
Sold. I want to smell like soft, sultry, smoky Earl Grey. DONE. PLEASE. NEED NOW.
So. I got a few samples of that, because hey, I'm destined to sit on the couch for the next few days. Why can't I dream of smelling pretty/dirty in the meantime??
If you can't tell from this post, my brain is on fire. Meaning I'm all over the place and the tiniest bit manic. But I'm having a kid in three days. So. I think this is to be understood.