about to pop, the third time around

I guess I've been a little bit in denial, but I just suddenly realized two nights ago lying in bed -- feeling some strange sensations, not contractions but more like a tiny human trying to dig his way out my cervix -- I guess it's possible that our baby could arrive any day now.  I'm still not thinking it likely -- Bob and O both came one week past their due date so I guess I just assume that's how long my body likes to cook 'em, which would give me another three weeks.  But, I heard a rumor that you can't really plan these things so, the point is, anything is possible.

I mostly don't feel nervous about the birth -- I've been through it twice, I know I can handle it, the path has been cleared, so to speak.  Of course, there are some rough patches in the whole process which I can't say I'm overly excited to re-live.

More than apprehension about giving birth, I worry: Is this, without me even realizing it, the last day I'll have with just Bobby and Owen, my two sons; is it the last day they'll have me all to themselves, before  a piece of me is taken, or at least borrowed, from them?

Ok, that sounds a little dramatic.  Mostly it's more like waking in the morning and thinking, phew -- I'm still here in my regular life.  The boys are either already in my bed, or they come in to snuggle for a while before we get up.  And then we play games, work on table projects, go outside and play ball or ride bikes or just explore.  We read books and have picnics.  I make lots of eggs and oatmeal and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and wash and cut lots of fruit, and I clean up the ensuing messes.  The pups race around the house or hide out in their various secret spots pretending to be a whole range of superheroes and characters.  {And new activities include: making cardboard doll beds; changing and dressing our babies; taking turns being the doctor and the new baby... where the baby climbs into the cradle by himself, the doctor perhaps listens to his heartbeat then covers him with a blanket then leaves, the baby begins to make pathetic "eh, eh" sounds, and the doctor comes running to ask, "Are you okay, baby?"  Sometimes we go so far as to include labor and delivery from under a blanket in our pretend routine, but I can only handle a couple rounds of that.}

Now, normally I'd read through what I've been working on here for the past week or so, and I'd have more to say, but... I'm pretty sure I'm in labor all of a sudden.  So I'm going to go get the pups' supper on the table and maybe pack a little bag or something.  Wish me luck.