What is that Bugbear doing, and why aren't you telling me about it?

Bugbear is...
wait for it...
putting on fat.

And getting into position to be born.

That's it.

Kicking, dancing, hiccuping, amusing friends and I by visibly wagging back and forth during exceptionally boring lectures, sure, but compared to growing ears or gaining the ability to open his/her eyes, s/he's not up to to much.

S/he's kinda squished in there, though in true medically accurate science terminology fashion, I'm measuring either 2.5 cm behind or 1 cm ahead of where I "should" be. But really, it's just time for him/her to put on that baby fat.  Though s/he's technically full term now, the longer s/he continues to cook and practice breathing, the better. For all of us. And since there's nothing abnormal about or wrong with pregnancy lasting 42 weeks, when people ask when I'm due, I just respond with "I'll be a mom before December!" because that's really as exact as I'm comfortable getting, even in my head.

We're nesting to a certain degree. Things are put together, built, the car set is ready to install, and we really do need to pack a hospital bag. Given the number of "hospital bag list"s that I have, however, if that doesn't get packed until I'm in labor, it won't be the end of the world. I spend a lot more time smiling and nodding as others tell me that we're doing things wrong because we're not doing things like they did. A friend suggested that I imagine advice givers and myself as ducks in conversation, because imagining someone else as a duck allows me to have their words roll right off my back more easily. I like that. Because really, at this point, we're not going to change our minds, and I don't so much care what others think. We may not be completely "ready" for Bugbear to show up, but we're never going to be totally ready, and no number of mini-lectures or amount of "advice" is going to change that. And that's perfectly fine.

I'm also noticing that I'm really drawing inward. I get more tired by people more easily than I usually do, and I just want to spend my time curled up with Michael with my head on his shoulder, watching bad tv or doing nothing. It's a sweet sort of enforced resting, a period where my body just can't do anything else, and I'm grateful and happy that I have a partner with fabulous shoulders who doesn't mind me leaning on them for extended periods of time.