Any Day (for the Next Five Weeks)

Phil regretfully spent the day doing engineering and not construction. C'est la vie. It will be good for him to be done with that project.

I had a fun day at church yesterday. I had two friends I haven't seen in a while tell me that my belly does not look real, because it is so basketball-shaped, and so high, it looks like I'm wearing a fake baby belly. It was actually a relief to hear that, because *I* don't think it looks natural.

But mostly it was fun because I have entered the zone. The baby could now come any day ... for the next five weeks. If I had to predict, I am guessing somewhere between October 18 and 20, so I am expecting about four of those five weeks will still be gestation, but at least now, when people say, "Isn't that baby coming soon?!" I can reassure them that I'm in the zone. And there is a great relief to that.

We had a fun thing happen after church, too. The one Chipotle in Charlottesville, our main culinary treat, is always ridiculously busy for Sunday lunch. It's like Disneyland, where the line not only wraps back and forth, but often extends halfway back through the restaurant. (Makes me wish I owned a Chipotle franchise.) Lately when we have errands, we buy lunch meat at the grocery store and eat it as we drive home, but the store was out of the type we wanted, so we finished our errands, hoped to avoid the after-church rush, and reached the restaurant, starving, at about 3pm.

Maybe a club had just arrived or something, but the line still extended halfway back through the restaurant! There's nothing inherently fast about fast food when you're the 50th person in line. But the very last person in line happened to be a friend from church, so when we saw that, we abandoned thoughts of driving home. He had come a half hour earlier and gone to run some errands to let the line settle down, and then come back to find the line longer than ever. So the lack of pepperoni and his delay meant that we enjoyed an unexpected time of visiting.

And one more story. One thing about this pregnancy that I don't remember from the past is that I am really an incubator. While I don't think I'm abnormally chilly in normal life, Phil's internal temperature runs a bit warmer than mine. I usually reach for my sweatshirt first; I'm happier in jeans a bit earlier in the year than he is.

Usually. I turned the fan on me a few nights ago, and Phil said later that he was surprised, as he was chilly. But the real shocker came last night. I was sleeping in cami and boxers, under a sheet, and I was plenty warm. I got up to go the bathroom, and noticed Phil: huddled under sheet and blanket, dressed in sweat pants and hoodie, with the hood up. "I was so cold last night, I kept waking up!" he said this morning.

Not me!