In which the children attempt to redeem themselves

I'm still sick. A whole toilet paper roll full of snot kinda sick.
The kids have lost their snark, though. Events today included:

• Singing Christmas songs while making Easter decorations
• Bringing many extra pillows into my bed to read with me
• Making tea
• And more tea
• Ballet dancing in the living room...to Hootie and the Blowfish
• A rousing rendition of "Food Glorious Food, We Can't Wait to Eat It!" when I set out dinner (a fairly simple mixed-greens salad with homemade vinaigrette, Gorgonzola cheese, and slices of chicken...surprising thing to break into song about)
• Nagging-free kitchen cleaning. Including the one not assigned dishes taking out trash and compost - without complaining! And cooperative pot-and-pan washing!
• Several fight-less rounds of Trouble, Candyland, and Chess

My uterus has decided that now is not the time to have a baby, and has been pretty much quiet all day. The uterus part, that is; the baby has been wiggling and hiccuping away. Perhaps my body has decided that as long as the snot factory/headache/sore throat persists, it wouldn't be a good idea to have a baby. Or maybe it's the fact that I shifted baby higher in my pelvis by semi-accident (I tried to rotate him/her away from being stubbornly posterior, but got "float" instead). I'm already doing most of the posturing things that are supposed to keep this little bugger in a better position; babies fit better when their backs are along the front or left side of moms' bellies, and have the roughest time when their backs are lined up with moms' backs. And yeah, that's where this one is, and has been for a good long time. Boyness came out that way, and his labor was more painful and more confusing than the others. Anyhow, I'm doing the positioning things and they're not working. The latest attempt (the one that resulted in a relative state of "floating" for baby's station=distance from certain pelvic landmarks) involved the ever so comfortable (not) inversions with a little wiggling thrown in for added baby-movement encouragement. Failure.

Waiting for kids to get their little butts abed so I can stuff Easter eggs and stick Easter fun into baskets. I'm feeling really happy with myself for purchasing this stuff a couple of weeks ago while I still had any desire to be out in public at all. And while I was thinking "I'd better do this well, it's likely I'll be ignoring them for a while shortly after Easter."

(Who was I kidding? Like I said before, I will be pregnant forever.)

Tired!

It is going to be winter forever in the Pacific Northwest, I have decided. It is rainy and very windy today. A tree that I keep hoping will just fall and get it over with is resolutely not falling into my backyard, even though some other foliage is out there setting a good example. Our power went out, and back on. Between possible lack of power and tree limbs in the road, it would be a crappy day to have a baby.

So (not entirely due to the weather) I have also decided I'll be pregnant forever. My uterus is being extremely noncommittal about this whole labor-or-not thing, and I think it's just never going to make up its mind. At this rate I'm going to decide "screw it," take a trip 90 min from my house and wind up having a baby in some store somewhere. Last time I felt so full of peace and knowledge about the whole labor/birth. This time I'm just like "shut up uterus, I know you're just kidding again." On the plus side, I guess, during 12+ hours of contractions that were exactly 7 minutes apart yesterday, I accomplished a lot of those silly little last-minute things. Fran came home from work, spotted the baskets of pads and diapers etc, and asked if I wanted to do squats or "something" to get labor going. I promptly laid down in bed and picked up a book without answering him. He asked if he should get labor snacks ready, and all I said was "sorry for the fake out" and fell asleep.

And then I woke up every 30 minutes all night.

Now I have a sore throat and feel kinda spacey. Sounds like what Boyness has; he has spent the last few days whining about his throat, taking his temperature every so often just to show off the high numbers, and drinking Throat Coat tea.

I realize I'm not even to my due date (in fact my due date is about half a month away). I wouldn't mind being pregnant for longer, if my uterus would just stop playing its little "made you look!" game. I don't want to sound like a complete ass to women who habitually wind their way up to the 42 week mark. I kind of do, I realize. I would happily be pregnant for longer if I could do it a little less sick, tired, and contracty.

Oh, and if the kids would stop being complete whinerbaby contentious pains in the ass. All three of them in dish-it-but-can't-take-it mode in a HUGE way. Yesterday we TOTALLY had a bad kid day despite me trying to rally them behind a showing of Star Wars and some ice cream (--> complete "that was my spot" "his foot is in my way" FAILURE). And yes, today may be shaping up towards almost-as-bad status, although I'm not having to step in and yell at them as much. I understand they're as sick as I am and almost as tired. No matter how good my "you don't try to kill people who irritate the crap out of you" example is, the kids seem incapable of following it. Yesterday was one of those rare days where if I left the kids to their own devices I might actually be down a child or more.

THANK GOD for coffee, hot tea, good books, and the internet. 'Cause if I have to go out into humanity again (as I tried to today, and OMG was it torture) feeling like this, I will literally infect humankind with my misery and life as we know it will be ruined.

ETA (edited to add) - allow me to tag on the fact that not all of life is doom and gloom, and that I had way too much fun at my mother blessing this past weekend, which I can blog about (including a few pictures hopefully) when I don't feel like a big fat sarcastic bitch. You know, the sort who answers "uh-oh, you'd better be careful" from some innocent old lady with "don't worry I won't fall on you and squish you." (True story.)