The day of labor is drawing nigh.

I hope that isn’t a gross overstatement – LG could actually come two weeks past her due date, which of course would mean two full weeks of wrathful diatribes of the woeful injustice of the world on this otherwise cheery and complaint-free blog.  And that would be a travesty of huge proportions.

However, today I am officially 37 weeks pregnant, which according to the books means that if you stuck a toothpick in the thickest part of this baby at this point, it would most likely come out clean.

I for one have always liked my baked goods a little on the gooey side.

But, she might need a little more cooking.  Only time will tell.  Bug has sensed a change in the air though.  It may have something to do with the fact that I spend my time either frantically cleaning the top of the refrigerator or obsessively organizing the baby’s clothes into color schemes or talking to people about their role in The Plan when I go into labor.  This last bit has him the most intrigued.  Yesterday he wanted to know what I was going to say when the baby was coming out.  I told him I would probably say “Ouch!” and then promptly hit my knees in prayer to ask forgiveness for the giant whopping lie that just left my lips.

He really wants to know exactly when the baby’s coming, and it’s hard for him to grasp the concept that she could be here two days from now or two weeks from now.  And if I want to get real about it, that’s a hard concept for me to grasp, too, and I have an actual handle on the perception of time.  Bug’s still convinced that since I told him we wouldn’t die for a long time and I also told him that Christmas wouldn’t be for a long time that therefore we are going to die after Christmas.  So you can see how the whole timing of the birth of the baby thing is throwing him a little.

Already though I can tell that they will have something special that not even I can share in – a brother sister relationship that has begun before she’s even taken a breath outside my body.  Each night when I lay with Bug to say goodnight, he scooches himself down to be face to belly with me and gently lifts my shirt and flings his arm around my girth. Then in a soft whisper, he tells her things that I can’t hear.  Brother to sister. My two kids in conversation. He lowers my shirt, but first kisses my stomach and says “Goodnight baby!” as if she were already here laying on the bed between us.

So I’m ready for the day when she is laying between us, named and in the world for everyone to see. I’m ready to see Bug whisper his brotherly secrets in her ear.  I’m ready to hear him say her name.  I’m ready to watch him wonder at her tininess and wiggliness and cuteness.  I’m ready to look at my two kids side by side. Bug and LG. Brother and sister.

I’m just ready.