How I know I'm officially in my 9th month...

Yesterday, we brought Sofia to the park and they had one of those kids' play areas set up. The ones that parents can't even fit into, with slides and balls and mats and whatnot. Well, wouldn't ya know it, I cried like a baby as we watched her make her way through the maze from the outside. And I've never been one of those moms who mourns the passing months - I love watching Sofia grow up. But...the Hormones have Got me.

Underwear and leggings: the time has come for me to decide whether to just let them roll up under my belly or spend all day pulling them up and over it.

There is no longer any graceful way to get out of bed in the morning (or off a chair, or up stairs).

Sleep is for sissies: guess which mom-to-be is now finding it impossible to sleep between the hours of 2am and 4am. Just so happens that's also scientifically when our best mammal milk production is. Coincidence? I think not.

While people have been so (very) kind as to assure me that I only look different in my stomach, I can see The Change has already started on my face. I remember our pre-birth coach with Sofia telling us that you can always tell if a mom's ready to burst or not by seeing if her face has changed. I am definitely on my way, judging from my expanding nose. As if it needed to get any wider!

I have precisely one week of work left before maternity leave starts. And all I am dreaming of is getting this house in order once and for all. I know from experience that it takes a whole lot of energy to get past the dreaming stage and into the actual thick of it, though.

Chocolate tartufo gelato. That's all I'm dreaming of, same as in my last month with Sofia. That and wishing it was sandals weather - my shoes (and socks even) are starting to cramp my style.

My final (or at least I believe so) Dr. visit. Today, at 5pm.