Thirty-five.

That's how many weeks along I am as of today. And boy, am I feeling it or what?

Got a new haircut this weekend. Feelin' good about that.

More than anything, I just want to be done. Done, done, done. I feel like a pan of brownies in the oven (yum) that look done by all appearances, but are still a little mushy in the middle. You can tell because if you insert a toothpick into my belly, it doesn't come out clean. Har, har.

Brownies. Mmm. Did I mention I made some homemade brownies last week and they were deeeelicious? Corn syrup is the secret to chewy goodness. And lots of vegetable oil.

I also made two dozen oatmeal raisin cookies yesterday afternoon and they were so good, I ate six this morning.

I sure hope the scale forgives me.

Anyway, I'm at that awkward pregnancy stage when nothing fits, I'm feeling pretty miserable and I look like I'm about to pop, yet I still have FIVE WEEKS left. So I'm nowhere close to actually being done. But everyone thinks I should be. And I think I should be.

I'm pretty sure God designed it this way. That by the end, we'd be so sick of pregnancy we wouldn't be afraid to push the baby out. It's genius, really.

Speaking of which, Bubby has recently started saying, "You're geenus!" Not sure where she picked that up. Probably from Dill, who says it to me on a regular basis. ;)

And that's what's going on with me. I do have a baby shower coming up this weekend, hosted by my lovely sister-in-law, and I'm sure it'll buoy me up a little. Nothing like gifts, good company and food. Ohhhhh yeeeeeah.

Another thing: I need to come up with a nickname for my baby. Obviously, Bubby is not my daughter's real name. But I'm thinking I'll follow suit with the next kid and call him something funny to preserve his identity. I'm leaning toward Smush. Thoughts?