Music to My [daughter's] [h]ear[t]s

This morning, Emma and I had to get out of the house kind of quick because the housecleaners came early, and I do not like being there while they work. I feel like I should be doing what they are doing. I know they are getting paid, and I am too hippo-like to scrub the shower or tub, but still...
ANYWAY- We headed to Starbucks (or as Emma calls it, THE Coffee Store) for my morning caffeine fix and a mish mash for Emma. Up by the register, they had the new Adele CD, which I've been meaning to purchase on Itunes. I thought, "Well, this way I can listen to it now rather than waiting until I have burned a CD or put it on my IPod..." So I bought it.
Emma and I headed back to the car with our vanilla soy late, 2 mish mashes, and CD. In the car, I quickly unwrapped "21", ejected "A Charlie Brown Christmas" from the changer, and inserted the gift to myself. The first song is "Rolling in the Deep", a catchy tune that Emma instantly started bobbing to. As we drove to a friend's house, she kept moving and grooving until song 2 came on.
She said, "Mommy, this song about Jesus?"
"Ummm... no, baby. This song is about a boy."
Quiet from the backseat...
"Mommy, this sad."
"What's sad baby?"
"Mommy, this song sad. Listen to Jesus music. Not sad."

I know it was a short conversation, but in that moment, I felt like my two year old had said so much. How much of an influence does music have on our mood or our thought process? This song was in a minor key talking about broken relationships, jealousy, and hurt. My two year old couldn't understand all of the lyrics, but she could deduct from the words she caught and the tune that something wasn't right, and it led her to feel sad. The songs my little girl wanted to listen to were about Jesus.

I put on David Crowder.
"Mommy, this Jesus music. Happy big Jesus music."
"Yes, baby. This is Jesus music."

She danced and talked happily the rest of the car ride.

I'm not saying I won't listen to my Adele CD, but when I do, and I will think of how it is effecting me and anyone else who can hear it, and I will be sure that I give equal playtime to some good "Big Jesus music".

He can come now. Maybe.

Alright. So I had a doctor's appointment today. I am 36 weeks and 4 days complete (it is the 4th day of my 37th week), and my doctor gave me a green light for Ransom to come!

Here is the catch: She is not on call this week, and she is going to Chicago on Wednesday of next week.

So.... do I do everything in my power to get him to come tonight and end my discomfort but risk not going into labor tomorrow and then have the doc on call deliver? OR... do I take it easy this weekend, but try to get him to come on Monday or Tuesday, but then cross my legs until next Monday? Ay yi yi. Like I have much control over it anyway!

Basically, I am ready to have a baby. And he can come whenver he likes!

Emma is ready to have Ransom here, too. She told my tummy this morning, "Ransom, look at this!" I tried to explain that, though he can hear us, he can't see us yet. She thought that was just crazy.

Clark is probably ready for Ransom to be here so I stop my griping. I am not normally a complainer, but geez louise, this little boy has really furthered my adoption research!

Taking it easy, continued.

I am having difficulty starting this post. My mind is torn between typing and watching my stomach bounce from side to side in a very uncomfortable manner. Note to self: Even 2 oreos is too many for the little boy in my stomach.

To update on our (mine and Ransom's) current status, we are doing well. I am supposed to be putting my feet up as much as possible, not doing much around the house, and according to my OB, "Give up potty training". I am still having frequent Braxton-Hicks contractions and occassional real contractions with constant pressure and discomfort in the lower regions of my oven. At my appointment Friday, she told me that our goal is to make it 2 more weeks before Ransom makes his grand entrance to the world. She said after this two weeks, if he comes, he comes. That will put me at 37 weeks, which is the first week of what is considered "full-term". By that point, there is very little worry about his lungs or his ability to breathe on his own.

My flesh is so selfishly ready to be done with this pregnancy. I hate that I am unable to be as active as I would like, that I have to depend on others to take care of my responsibilities while I keep my feet up. I am also having a difficult time getting comfortable when sitting or trying to sleep. I just feel ready to have my body back to myself. But then the mom instinct bumps me on the back of the head and reminds me that what is best for my baby boy is to bunk with me for at least 12 more days.

12 days. I can do that. But then I think of friends who have had pre-term labor conditions and then carry past their due date. The good Lord knows what I can handle...

So-- tomorrow I go to my OB for my 35 week check-up. (I have technically completed 35 weeks and am 3 days into my 36th week.) As of last week I was still about 50% effaced and 1cm dilated. It will be interesting to see if anything has changed or if my PBS Kids marathons have helped stop any progression. But for tonight, I am going to try to find a position in which I can sit without seeing Ransom's foot stick out of my side, and I am going to watch White Collar while cuddling with my husband... with my feet up.