My husband was feeling my stomach last night as we were watching Desperate Housewives.
"You're contracting...do you feel that?"
"Yeah, I feel that all the time."
He laughed and said, "Cari, you're not going to make it to the 13th."
That was my original goal...the day after my grad class was over..so I wouldn't miss any..and my grade wouldn't be penalized.
But now, my new goal is to make it past this Wednesday. Why this day? Well, because I have a hair appointment. I need a highlight so bad...my roots are quite pathetic...and my ends are split into total frizz. It would be most upseting if I didn't get my hair done before I deliver. Because once the baby comes, it will probably be another couple months before I'd be able to have someone watch her so I could go to my appointment.
I can't imagine looking at myself in the mirror for another 2 months with hair as bad as mine. It's enough to incite Post-Pardum depression.
And on a different note....Max was up last night at 1:30, 2:30 and 3:30. Is he trying to prepare me for my nights with Ella?