Matt and I went out to eat again last night.

We've been doing that a fair amount lately, as neither of us feels like cooking - even moreso than usual. Also, sometime last week I came to the realization that sometime in the next week or so, my options for eating out are going to be pretty severely limited, and they're going to stay limited for at least the next several years.

The young man who seated us asked when I was due, and I said, "In about a week."

That was the first time I've said that. It kind of struck me, as I was unfolding my napkin. About a week. A couple of days longer than that, actually, but you can't really talk about specific dates when you're this close. She could come at any time, or she could hang on for a week or so after that due date, but the due date is... about week.

Wow.

That means that, in about a week, I'll be answering that question with, "Any day now."

Or else I'll be answering some completely different questions. You never know.

Sometime after dinner, in a fit of restlessness, I took the stroller out of its box and put it together. I didn't quite finish - the kid's tray snaps on and off, so it's not really an "assembly" thing anyway, and the parent's tray requires a screwdriver, and by the time I was done with all the wheels and stuff, I didn't have that much ambition left. But it's certainly possible to push the kid around in the stroller without either tray, so it's finished enough to be useable.

Does that count as nesting? Or just boredom?

Thus, we enter the stage of pregnancy in which I second-guess every single twitch and twinge, trying to decide if it's a sign of impending labor. Or even labor itself.

My Braxton-Hicks "practice" contractions, which I've been having several times a day since April, have gotten a lot stronger. And yesterday they evened out and spaced themselves regularly - about one every hour. They're not yet strong enough to be more than mildly uncomfortable or to wake me up at night - but does it count? Damned if I know. Some women have irregular contractions for most of their whole ninth month. It doesn't really mean that much. I told Matt, if they become painful or get more frequent, I'll call the doctor; otherwise, it'll probably wait until my appointment Friday.

And despite getting plenty of sleep, I've been very tired lately. Not that bone-draining exhaustion of early pregnancy (building brand-new internal organs from scratch is very exhausting) but tired enough that, if I weren't at work, I'd probably be sleeping late and taking a couple of naps a day.

I have no problem interpreting this as a sign of approaching labor. "A-hem," my body is saying, "do you have any idea how much work you're about to do? Labor is not a jog in the park. It's a damned marathon. Some rest is in order, here..."

It just needs to hold off two more days, and then I'll be on maternity leave. Two days.

--Liz