Guest Blog: One Week to Freedom!!!

It's official. I only have one more week of bedrest (can you hear the angels singing)! I'm so excited I could pee on myself. Well, not really. I'm so excited I could pee on you, maybe, but not me. The doctor told me that once I hit 36 weeks, I'm off bedrest (mark the date, that's September 27th). And I can't believe by the end of this, I'll have been on bedrest for 7 weeks total (ok, not a lifetime, but that's like almost 2 months of my life where I've basically laid on my side for 23 hours each day. You're suprised I didn't shoot myself -- or Joe -- but I'm not allowed to get up to retrieve firearms. I'm only allowed to get up to pee and shower -- oh, and take the occasional photo.).

What has been cool during bedrest is how cool everyone has been. Friends have come over to help me pass the time, brought DVDs, food, sent books, the whole shebang. And that's really cool, because it's totally unecessary. On the flip side, I'm also surprised by some of the people who have not called or stopped by (you can see their names on my shitlist in bold, all caps).

But this last week is moving painfully slow. Now that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, I'm getting more and more anxious. Watching my dog perform a lobotomy on a stuffed bear is no longer as entertaining as before.

Other than hearing angels singing, all I can hear is the inevitable scolding when Lil' E gives me some lip "I did not spend 7 weeks on bedrest for this bullshit! Now go to your room!" Payback's a bitch.