Yet another weekend passes too quickly to be appreciated.

We did some minor furniture re-arrangement in the nursery, so that there are (mostly) clear paths between the door, the changing table, and the crib. But I honestly can't tell you when we did that.

Saturday, Matt came out of the shower and said, "William Butler Yeats once wrote, 'Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.'" The string that holds my scrubby together had spontaneously untied itself, leaving Matt with nothing but a string and a yard or so of plastic net tubing.

No sweat, I thought. It's a Bath and Body Works scrubby - they're guaranteed for life, so I just had to take the mess to the mall and exchange it for a new scrubby.

If only that were true.

The Bath and Body Works at the mall was out of scrubbies. Completely. Apparently, this was the Weekend Of The No-Good Damn Scrubby, and everyone in the universe had come in to trade their old scrubbies for new ones. The manager offered to call over to Coliseum Mall to see if they had any, but no, I really didn't want to drive another twenty minutes and then walk across a swelteringly hot parking lot just to get a scrubby. Especially since I already hate going to the mall anyway.

Couldn't she mail it to me? Well, she could, but it would cost about $6, since they're only allowed to ship via FedEx, apparently.

I gave up and left. No scrubby for me. I left the unravelled No-Good Damn Scrubby with K.T. and begged her, if she had time, to swing by the mall sometime and do the exchange for me. (She at least lives much closer to the mall than I do, and can go in the middle of a weekday, so she isn't risking having to park in Timbuktu.)

Anyway, after I didn't exchange my scrubby, Matt and I went over to K.T.'s to game. And when you get to use in your game a phrase like, "some mystical book-eating dwarf" you know it's a fun game.

I spent some time on Sunday Halling, and then Matt and I went to our last Lamaze class. At last! Our Sunday evenings are free again! (Well, until the baby comes, of course. But at least theoretically, if we want to go somewhere on a Sunday evening, we can pack the baby up and take her with us.)

Around 3:30 on Sunday, while I was still Halling, I developed a sharp pain on one side of my back. It felt like maybe I'd pinched a nerve struggling to get up at some point. Matt applied pressure, and gave me massages. I tried various seated positions, and standing, and standing bent over. It faded some, but never quite went away.

Finally, around 10:30, I couldn't take it anymore. I gave up and went to bed. Went through my increasingly-laborious bedtime routine (I am so ready to not be pregnant anymore...) and propped myself up a bit to lessen the pain while Matt said goodnight to me and then the baby. Finally, I turned (twisted, grunted, groaned, oofed, and flopped) over onto my side, stretched, and prepared to wait for sleep to overtake the pain.

Except the pain disappeared. I tried sitting up again. It was still gone. I went through the whole night, and the pain did not come back. I was stiff this morning, but that's hardly anything new - and the pain was still gone.

Which means, in all likelihood, that it was caused by the baby pressing against something, and laying down on my side made her shift just enough to take the pressure off whatever it was.

Someone remind me, next time, to try that earlier.

--Liz