Waiting,

I start work tomorrow, a fact that a part of me is totally unaware of, and then another part of me is screaming, Thank God, give me something new to think about than all this @%#& in my head.
Ethan is growing up faster and faster everyday. I think for a little while there I thought he would be a baby forever, or at least a toddler, and now here he is putting his underwear, shorts, shirt, and shoes on all by himself. He reads me his stories he has memorized, like The Best Mouse Cookie, and I sit on the couch with my mouth half opened, disbelieving. Seriously? This is how fast it goes? Crap.
And then at the very same time this baby cannot come out soon enough. I was ready for labor at 28 weeks, so mentally this kid is WAY overdue. I totally have pre-post partum going on; if I am alone, I am probably crying. It's lovely.
Today Joey responded to my rude quietness with grace; eventually he just gave me a longer hug than usual and then said to have a good day before he left. I bawled my eyes out as soon as the door shut on his way out.
Then, I fell asleep.
I woke up hungry so I made a plate full of salami, cheese, Wheathins, and big, purple grapes. It looked like something in a Renaissance painting.