Show Me the Baby!

Angela is just shy of two weeks until her due date. Seriously, if I get any more excited, someone is going to have to diaper my bottom in Depends. And, as I ponder the fact that either (a) she could burst at any time, (b) I have TWO WHOLE WEEKS to wait, or (c) I could even have a WHOLE MONTH to wait if my little nephew opts to behave like me and make his poor mother cart his tiny baby butt around for an extra eleven days...Really, if I don't have at least two or six accidents along the way, it will be an absolute miracle.

On the other hand, I'm sitting here thinking, how the hell can she possibly be due already?? I'm sure it's been an eternity for her, but for me? Me who lives two hours away from her...Me who has only seen her twice so far this year in person...Me who only knew about her pregnancy for six of the nine months...Me who has been observing a woman who carries her pregnant belly very (very) well, as if that baby growing inside of her were some new accessory trend that she got half price with a pair of shoes and a set of earrings - like, seriously, I really don't think she could even be any more nauseating with her adorable I'M-GLOWING-BECAUSE-I'M-STARTING-MY-FAMILY looks even if she tried. Geesh! Really, from where I'm standing, I think she should be due in mid-August.

Despite still feeling ill on Saturday, I requested that Stephen drag my butt down to the parents' house to visit with Mr. and Mrs. Brown while they were in town visiting for Easter. Because I figure, I just haven't fulfilled my sisterly duties to the fullest if I haven't totally made Angela feel like a freakshow....Yeah, I'm deathly ill, but you're like really huge and stuff and I want to see you in all your massiveness while I can before that darn baby comes along! Sad thing is, from the front, she doesn't even look that big. I'm telling you, it's just not right how being pregnant flatters her so well. Pictures don't even do her justice. Maybe she should, you know, get knocked up a whole lot more, or something. It just works for her, I don't get it. She does give me hope, though. Imagine this...pregnant women don't necessarily have to look like giant bloated weeble wobbles. You can exercise and eat right and wear cute maternity clothes that flatter your shape. However, I have to keep in mind that she and I are only sisters through marriage, so unfortunately I can't pray that I have the same good genes that she has. Okay, so maybe when my time comes, I won't be pregnancy valedictorian, but maybe I can have the honor of salutatorian? Ha! I'm just kidding, my goals are much, much lower than Angela's! Get this - she exercises. Yep, while pregnant. I don't exercise now as a non-pregnant woman...Me, exercising period, let alone while pregnant?...Wouldn't that be just ridiculous ridonculous! (Did I spell that "properly," Ang?)

So here we are, at this point, just twiddling our thumbs, awaiting our baby nephew's arrival in dire anticipation. I suck badly at playing the waiting game.