Every day for the past few weeks have been groundhog day. Where I wake up and pee, take care of kids, wonder if this baby will be here today, pretend, plead, bribe, whine, beg, and ask if this baby would please, please, please come out and play. Convince myself that today is not the day, but throw on my walking shoes just to make sure that the only reason he is not here is simply not because I chose not to walk him out. All I've got to show for weeks of walking is gnarly shoe stank, sore feet and an aching nether region. The same nether region that he is thumbing his nose at and laughing at. I swear he is in there, feet and arms braced on the sides of my uterus, hanging along the wall like spiderman, laughing hysterically.
Then at night, I get in bed and lather that belly with lotion because if I have to suffer through acid reflux, aches and pains and graying hair, I will do everything in my power to have my stomach not turn into a hard boiled egg that has been dropped a million of times. Cuz we all know what happened to Humpty Dumpty. Someone had to put his roly poly butt back together again. I'm not feelin that.
I then wake up and lather, rinse, repeat.
Groundhog day, you suck.
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