Nine Months of Fridays

Ready for the weekend

It is Friday.

In a world in which I am not pregnant, Friday is generally a throw-your-hands-up-in-the-air day. The end of the week. A little behind on laundry. Maybe I haven't made my bed yet. Basically, I have already checked out in anticipation of a Saturday sleep in. Not chaos, but not perfect.

This Friday happens to be one of many pregnant Friday's to come. How to sum it up? This morning I made some oatmeal. All the bowls were dirty. So I ate the oatmeal...out of a serving bowl we received as a wedding gift. This particular receptacle is big enough to hold an army's worth of mashed potatos. It is also made of fine bone china.


It all sounds a little Lindsay Lohan pre-rehab. I know.

Despite its ignominious beginning, I have high hopes for this weekend. There are about three hours out of every day that I feel both well and awake. I plan to fill them. There will be a date. We will purchase food storage. Maybe I will read. Maybe I will watchHow to Steal a Million...again. (seriously, Peter O'Toole. Yes. Please. Always.)

And dancing. There will be dancing.