You know what's awesome about Rick James' "Super Freak"? The girl's really not a super freak. I'm mean, she's waiting for him with incense, wine, and candles. Not exactly a freaky scene, unless you have very severe allergies.
I think I've turned a corner in terms of worrying about the baby. Not to say I won't worry at all anymore--why give up something I'm good at, especially when I work in a swine flu soup?--but I think I'm past the dedicated worrying that I had been doing.
Have I told you how convinced I am that the baby is a girl? I'm dead certain. My mom says that my certainty is scientific proof it's a boy. I would be delighted to find out it's a boy--just as delighted as with a girl--but I would also be completely shocked. I'm getting nonstop girl vibes.
Anyway, we'll find out for sure next month. The whole finding out the sex thing is funny--I've talked to several women who said that they wouldn't have been able to get through labor without the surprise of finding out whether the baby is a boy or a girl. Maybe I'm crazy, but it seems likely that the baby will still be of interest to me, even if I already have that information. Don't get me wrong; I think it's cool when people wait to find out. But I HATE waiting. Just waiting five more months to have this baby seems like an impossible task sometimes.