Right now!

I am so ready to get this baby out of me.

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Huh. This is so odd. EJ found out where he's being stationed today. He thought at first that he'd try and be funny and tell me he got unaccompanied orders to Japan for two years - and I hung up on him. Then he told me where he really got put and ... well ... it's not Michigan. It's in the south. I'm not a southerner; I'm a yankee to the core. =} I've lived the majority of my life in Michigan. Sure, I've visited other places - a lot of places, in fact, but I can't really remember living anywhere other than the mitten. I'll miss showing people where I live using my hand. I'll miss the Michigan accents. I'll miss the snow. I'll miss the seasons. I'll miss making fun of the Canadians. Basically, I'll miss everything but the nanny-like, bloated government run by a former Canadian . Ugh. I hate the heat. Okay, I'm waxing sentimental. Sorry. I'll go reminisce about my home state alone. At least I'm not leaving until May....
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EDIT: This post was originally written way back in 2013. I recently went through all of my old posts and deleted more than half. I kept this and edited it a bit, just to clean up some typos and rearrange a few words to improve flow. I didn't realize doing so would make it now appear as though I published it in 2018. So, yeah. That happened. (The usual disclaimers for males apply: there is some female/birth-specific yuckiness in this post. Do not continue if that grosses you out.) Yes, yes, I know, here I am jumping on the Birth Story bandwagon. Honestly, though, I want to encourage (and disabuse) other first time mothers who, like me, knew exactly what they are going to do when the time came to give birth and how they were going to handle a newborn baby. Let me just say that reality has a funny way of bursting your idealistic bubble. To begin, I knew that, this being my first birth, I was going to be in labor for at least 22 hours (why 22 and not 23 or 21, I don't know)...
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