"Meg"

Henry has started calling me "Meg."

It happened in the last few days. He said something like, "Let's go, Meg," and I thought I must have misheard him.

"Did you just call me Meg?" I asked.

"Yeah, Meg," he replied happily.

I'm still "Mommy" when he's wailing for me in the mornings, but "Meg" when we're in casual conversation. I feel like maybe he'll start taking a morning coffee soon.

Meanwhile, D-day is 9 days away. I forgot how much I hate this end part. Maybe tonight! Maybe next week! Maybe two weeks from now! In the meantime, just go about your business as though life as you know it isn't about to end!

I did get my toenails and eyebrows done today. Those were the last things I really felt I had to accomplish before childbirth. I'm not really that vain, but when I'm sweating, grunting, and naked in front of a roomful of hospital people I've never met before, at least I'll feel, you know, groomed or something. Some shred of dignity while I'm pooping on the delivery table.