Today was my first day of maternity leave. Sure no baby to speak of, but the looks on people's face was reason enough to stay home. The endless questions like, how do you feel? Anything new? As if I had had the baby or was in labor but just didn't say anything. The worst part about it was, I was becoming a shell of myself, not so much able to laugh it off and made to feel bad for not being as chipper as I had been. What can you do? Well I thought it was time to start taking the time- as it's only a matter of time at this point? Right? And it's important to leave with some kind of semblance of sanity and hey, maybe even some friends!
My first order of business was to go see my friend at Urban Oasis. Last time she put a lot of love into my massage. Today, she talked to the baby (I have no idea what she said- as it was silent, through her breathing and mind) to try to get the baby to come on out. No word yet if this child is responding to her speech- apparently she really gave the baby a talking to- but I've been trying to talk this kid out since week 35... so a lot of good that'll do. I will say, she did not disappoint, and even if the baby stays put for a few more days I'm happy, relaxed and have a new hop to my step, again.
She and her hippie friend googled some natural ways to go into labor, because she knows that I don't want to end up being induced. Of course, intercourse comes up. Good lord, I wish people would just give it up on that one. YOU go have intercourse. I'm all set, thanks.
C picked me up- he took the day as well and we went to have a late lunch at a fabulous lunch place- Dave's Fresh Pasta in Davis Square. For serious- best sandwiches ever. Looks like great wine, fresh cheeses, pastas (obviously), the bread, the grilling... yum. We salute Mandy, who introduced us to this wonderful place.
On the way to lunch we got all kinds of turned around (no I was not driving, thank you) and then stuck. Behind a completely black cat. Who just stopped in the middle of the road. And stood there. Arched his back as black cats do, and probably hissed. That's a good sign? Right.
Wrong. But no worries, right before we sat down to eat C noticed that down the back of my shirt that I just took out of the laundry... bird shit. Up. I got hit.
So one black cat, one bird hit... and all before lunch. Great first day. Tomorrow I'm hoping to walk under a latter or break a mirror then throw salt over my shoulder to balance it out.