Ooops...

Today was the first of my weekly doctor visits.

 The final countdown, if you will.

*Admit you're picturing GOB dancing around throwing pennies right now, because I sure am*

With Lola, these appointments brought nothing but discomfort and disappointment, seeing as how I made zero progress until the day I went into labor -- eight days after my due date, I might add.

And holy guacamole, those "checks" hurt.

But this kid seems to like me more than Lola did, or at the very least is more agoraphobic, because at 36 weeks I'm already making steady progress and my doctor estimated he'll be arriving right on time, if not earlier.

Which is freakin' awesome, except for the fact that I still haven't done much in the way of preparation.

It's likely we'll be shoving our hospital stuff into the same Target bags we use to line our garbage.

In addition, the "check" didn't hurt at all.

My toughness must have been kicked up a notch after giving birth the first time, because nothing seems as bad this time around.

Either that, or my new doctor is a lot nicer than my old one.

Which she is, because she offered to induce me before my due date!

BEFORE.

My Lola doctor assured me she wouldn't let me go much more than two weeks over.

Not all that reassuring, let me assure you.

For now, I'm going to let this little guy do his thing while my gigantic body does its thing and hopefully we'll have a nice little experience in a few weeks.

Sound good?

Good.

To celebrate my softening cervix (wow, that's grosser in type than it was in my head), I stopped by Parson's Bakery in Bountiful to carbo/sugar load.

Let's just pretend I'm going to share.