I would've become a unibomber too.

That title alone probably just put me on some FBI warning list.

I've been on maternity leave for a week now and am due to pop literally any day now. Being the fact that it is cold, it is snowy, and I have no money, I have had no urge to really leave the house, so I've just been moping around trying to find new things to obsess over and clean. The house is spotless. The nursery has been arranged, rearranged, ransacked, cleaned, arranged and rearranged again. And organized. And filed. And color-coordinated.

That was my first day of maternity leave.

Now I'm just to the point of extreme boredom. And newly added to the list: bored and miserable.

Being sick sucks no matter what your present physical condition. But it REALLY sucks when you're nine months pregnant. It's just a typical February-style cold: cough, snot, sneeze, cough, fatigue, rinse, repeat. In the beginning I was afraid to cough, especially on the toilet. It's amazing the rationale that takes over when you're "down to the wire" pregnant. I am seriously convinced that if I cough too hard while I'm making a tinkle, I will plop out a baby. The normal, rational person that I once was knows this is crazy. Crazy Prego tells her to shut the hell up.

So now I'm bored, very pregnant, AND sick. I'm seeking out projects for the sake of having something to do, since I've watched every DVD we presently own, and every season of Arrested Development and The Office. Sitting around stranded in the house makes you crazy. I don't think that I want to blow anything up, but ask me again when I'm done with my most recent project:

A's mom bought us address labels for Christmas. You know the kind, with little cartoon pictures of every family member -- even the dog -- with our names? Well, around Christmas time we were still set on "Sophia" being the name of Fetus, so all the address labels all say "Sophia" under the little cartoon of a baby girl. My newest project? Going through all 250 labels and white-outing (whiting out?) "Sophia" and carefully going back in and writing the baby's official decided name. YES. I HAVE GONE CRAZY.

By the way, our decided name is:
ELAINE LOUISE.
Lainey for short.
Miss Lainey if you're nasty.

Lainey or Lainy. A likes the second option but it just looks like a misspelling to me. I like it with the -ey. But, hey, if we have a legal name decided on to put on a birth certificate, we can tackle the nickname later.

Super Tuesday's tomorrow. That'll give me something to obsess over besides Britney Spears' meltdown. I'll come out and just make my political preference known, even though I keep swearing I wouldn't on my blog:
That's all. I'm going to go finish knitting a dress for Bodhi. We are scheduled to have a tea party tomorrow. Then I might go out in the street and yell at passing cars. I don't know. We'll see. It's a pretty busy day tomorrow anyway...