Before I start on my monologue touting the wonders of pedicures and pecan pie, let me first note that I respond to your comments by posting a comment of my own after yours. I think you probably have to go back and select the "read comments" link to see my response. Hope this works okay for you all.
Ahh..now back to our regularly scheduled programming. Pedicures and pecan pie.
I am in the middle of what is likely to be my last carefree weekend for quite some time. I am kid-free and have been living it up. Like Wayne Newton, as my husband would say. At first, I hated it. I hated not having her adorable little face (although not so adorable during a series of very intense Exorcist-like fits this past week) and hearing her sweet voice. A couple of "you idiot, enjoy yourself" comments from my honest husband helped kick me into gear.
Friday I spent the afternoon lounging at the nail salon, having a lovely woman massage my swollen legs with hot stones. She painted the toenails on what are barely recognizable as toes (they look more like little Jimmy Dean sausages) a lovely color of orange. If only she would have just kept quiet during the whole thing, it would have been perfect.
Then, a couple of wonderful friends took pity on me last night and allowed me to tag along to a charity event featuring food by the best local chefs. Maybe they knew a woman near her due date would get the most out of those tickets, or maybe they were just feeling a bit charitable themselves. Poor souls had to put up with a chattering beast of a woman who couldn't stop herself from having as many helpings as she could fit into her cramped stomach. But the best food I had all night was PECAN PIE! I had three pieces and didn't feel an ounce of guilt about it. I wanted to cry it was so good. I figured I had to walk up a curved flight of stairs to get to it, so I needed the calories.
I had breakfast this morning in peace. No one asked for the last of my milk. Then, I took a long nap without that nagging feeling that I would be awoken any minute.