So. It's been awhile. Today is my birthday and I am finally updating. Thank you Joe, and no I haven't popped yet but he's dropped some inches. I feel like it's the New Years Countdown now...Mom doesn't think I'm going to go full term. And it never occured to me that I wouldn't. I figured I'd go past date since it's my first and everything, and I never expected him to drop this early. In reading and research and some of that dumb lamaze class I had learned the baby drops one to two weeks before the baby comes. In most cases anyways. I'm afraid he's going to be too little if he comes early but veterans seem to think not. So, eh.

And he's Mr. MeaniePants. Even on my birthday. Today I am really feeling pregnant and uncomfortable and icky. My tummy feels stretched out and he's laying on everything he can to make me hurt. And he's still my lopsided baby because he is laying on the left side and now he's low slung so I look really goofy. I hope he's comfortable, that will make one of us.

So I am 21 now. I got so many Happy Birthdays, it was nice to be remembered this year. Mark made it really good too. And the baby, and Mom and Dad. I had a good birthday. Yesterday we had a barbecue and I had a good time save some typical bad behavior on Omi's part and Mike's sullenness over the pending divorce today. More on that in a bit. There was a lot of food of which I am dreaming of now and cake! My cake was so pretty, with sugar roses and sugar sugar sugar icing and sugar crystals to make it all sparkle and did I mention sugar icing? *dies* Mom had a headache and I wasn't happy about that. I wasn't mad at her or anything...I know she can't help it. It's so frustrating to see my mother not be able to enjoy herself and being so miserable all the time. *sigh*

So this morning I woke up, and Mark had gotten me a card and a ballon and a dozen red roses. I have never gotten that before. Kevin never even got me 12 red roses. He always got them in 6's because we weren't married. I know the number doesn't matter, but I think it's the woman in me that gets a strange delight out of a dozen red roses. And they are beautiful. He's been singing me variations of Happy Birthday all day and being such a sweetheart, as is usual. I stole away for a bit to be on the computer because he is napping right now. I look over from time to time and watch him. His snoring seems to have abated a bit. Maybe he wasn't used to me or something at first and he responded by sawing logs, and now that he's more comfortable with me he sleeps quietly. I mean, he has his moments of awesome olfactory expelling, but for the most part he is a quiet sleeper. He's so pretty. :-) Ok, so maybe not pretty. But he has his own beauty. Maybe it's the green eyes, or the golden red hair. Right now he's got his head on the pillow facing me, his face relaxed and sleeping, his hair is strewn about the pillow...*I have some kind of long hair fetish I think...* The way the light is coming in and hitting him gives his skin a creamy translusence, his hair a golden gleam, it's almost insane how gorgeous he is. His mustache and beard add to the regalness bit...you know...and those of you who don't know what I'm talking about will laugh but those who do will understand...but he is exactly like I pictured Henry VIII when he was young and a prince. Tall and thick, handsome yet soft face, coloring and all. And I'm talking before he *got enormously fat and killed all 10 wives* ergh, fools.

Age is good for men. Changes them. Deepens them. For most women, it destroys and withers us.

I think I'm going to go wake him up now. Or at least lay next to him.

-Petra

written on 2002-09-03 at 2:59 p.m. by sweetsolace.

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