Scarbie's in labour. Holy fucking shit.
It's early in the New Year, and as I mentioned last time, little Pecker decided to hold out for 2005. Good for you my little lovely. It's a mild, rainy day. The kind of day that makes you feel a little tired and a little sad. So why can't I wipe the smile off my face?
I spoke to The Dog about an hour ago. He called from the hospital (Thank GOD because I've been spazzing since about 10 a.m. when I called to check in with the 'rents-to-be only to get voicemail on home and cell). He assures me that they are all doing fine. Mommy has had her drugs and was chatting away in the background. That's my girl.
Long story short. Baby is on his way. Could be anywhere from 5 - 12 hours, but looks like Jan. 2 is going to be our newest bday to celebrate. A good day if you ask me. Our boy will always have a party to go to before his special day (on account of New Year's), plus the unique opportunity to start each new year of his life at the same time as a brand-new calendar year begins. Double reason to focus on making each successive year the best one ever.
Plus, Mommy and Daddy will still have New Year's Eve to themselves (well, as much as they will have any day to themselves now that there's a new person in the picture) and won't necessarily have to throw parties with clowns and pinatas on New Year's Day.
Hangovers + clowns = NIGHTMARE (or so I would imagine).
I'm not really able to concentrate on anything and so I'm off again to go and stare at the phone. I have a feeling that next time it rings, there will be news of a baby. A baby!
Now I'm crying again... it's out of pure joy, rest assured. Scarbie and Dog, my thoughts are with you. I hope everything is going perfectly. I'm so proud of you both and I can't wait to see you next... when two will have become three.