This birthday is shaping up to be pretty sweet. I'm apt to call it "Best. Birthday. Ever.", despite knowing that I will be waking up with several new wrinkles and a head full of white hair on that day. It's a guarantee, as I'm about to enter a new decade, right?
So far, we know the following things:
Maw-in-law and Paw-in-law may be gifting me with some spa treatment for the grand 30. This isn't even a want of mine, it's a need. If you factor in both my status as an upcoming eldery person and the fact that I'm growing a giant child who makes me eat far more than I'd like to, you can see why I require some pampering. I'm likely to turn into dust if an aesthetician doesn't put something on my skin to stop the transformation.
The Madre has offered to keep the gremlins overnight so that Geekster and I can have one last night away. We've booked a suite in this place on the night of my birthday. We looked at several locations but decided on this one because:
A) It's close to things. I feel like there's a permanent pool noodle invading my hooha and it's likely going to get worse before it gets better (which will be when I give birth). Walking isn't my favourite activity at the moment. Heck, eating, sleeping, sitting and breathing aren't exactly fun right now, either, but at least they don't hurt quite like moving one foot in front of the other. This gem of a place is attached to a major downtown mall and there are many restaurants nearby.
B) It looks comfortable. The beds have big, fluffly robes on them that would be so inviting if I didn't need to wear two of them to go around my body right now.
C) The check-out time is 1pm as opposed to 11am like a lot of other places. The later, the better. It takes me three times longer than usual to empty my bladder, let alone pack up and leave a hotel room.
On the night we check in, we're deciding between two things to do: visit a comedy club or watch a jazz performance. The jazz is free and it's put on by people we know, but the comedy club would be good for me since I have no sense of humour, which I'm sure is fairly obvious.
The next day, we'll be going shopping for my birthday present from Geekster and the gremz: a digital camera. Then I will finally be able to provide people with much-anticipated pregnancy photos. Frankly, I don't know why some of you want to see them; hopefully just to get a good laugh at my expense, because I don't think you're going to find much beauty going on at this point.
So like I said: potentially Best. Birthday. Ever.
Countdown to Oldness: 15 days.
The Madre is picking up Gutsy in a few minutes so I can take Intrepid to the first of two gigs (the next one is Tuesday). Gutsy and Grandma are going swimming at her friend's house. Said friend has twelve children. I would LOVE to see Gutsy try and beat up all twelve. Way to break his spirit, Grandma! I may very well end up sending a meek and defeated Gutsy to preschool in a few weeks. Nice.
So far, we know the following things:
Maw-in-law and Paw-in-law may be gifting me with some spa treatment for the grand 30. This isn't even a want of mine, it's a need. If you factor in both my status as an upcoming eldery person and the fact that I'm growing a giant child who makes me eat far more than I'd like to, you can see why I require some pampering. I'm likely to turn into dust if an aesthetician doesn't put something on my skin to stop the transformation.
The Madre has offered to keep the gremlins overnight so that Geekster and I can have one last night away. We've booked a suite in this place on the night of my birthday. We looked at several locations but decided on this one because:
A) It's close to things. I feel like there's a permanent pool noodle invading my hooha and it's likely going to get worse before it gets better (which will be when I give birth). Walking isn't my favourite activity at the moment. Heck, eating, sleeping, sitting and breathing aren't exactly fun right now, either, but at least they don't hurt quite like moving one foot in front of the other. This gem of a place is attached to a major downtown mall and there are many restaurants nearby.
B) It looks comfortable. The beds have big, fluffly robes on them that would be so inviting if I didn't need to wear two of them to go around my body right now.
C) The check-out time is 1pm as opposed to 11am like a lot of other places. The later, the better. It takes me three times longer than usual to empty my bladder, let alone pack up and leave a hotel room.
On the night we check in, we're deciding between two things to do: visit a comedy club or watch a jazz performance. The jazz is free and it's put on by people we know, but the comedy club would be good for me since I have no sense of humour, which I'm sure is fairly obvious.
The next day, we'll be going shopping for my birthday present from Geekster and the gremz: a digital camera. Then I will finally be able to provide people with much-anticipated pregnancy photos. Frankly, I don't know why some of you want to see them; hopefully just to get a good laugh at my expense, because I don't think you're going to find much beauty going on at this point.
So like I said: potentially Best. Birthday. Ever.
Countdown to Oldness: 15 days.
The Madre is picking up Gutsy in a few minutes so I can take Intrepid to the first of two gigs (the next one is Tuesday). Gutsy and Grandma are going swimming at her friend's house. Said friend has twelve children. I would LOVE to see Gutsy try and beat up all twelve. Way to break his spirit, Grandma! I may very well end up sending a meek and defeated Gutsy to preschool in a few weeks. Nice.