Mark and I are preparing for the joyride that is childbirth, lol. I insist, of course, that he be in the room the entire time, so he’s going to be my childbirth partner. I don’t think he’s very enthusiastic about it, but it’s really hard to tell with Mark. Sometimes I think an African grey parrot is more verbal than him, lol. He won’t say how he feels about something (as opposed to myself, who’s forever starting sentences with “This is how I feel about it…” – I like making myself clear.) and even if he has the right sentiments, he’s not going to wax poetic about ANYTHING. When things come out of his mouth, they’re usually quips and corny jokes. Btw, he’s just suggested “E minor 7” or something like that for the baby’s name and even practiced scolding the baby (“E!” – sounds like the entertainment channel). It’s supposedly his favorite chord. He feels okay baiting me like that because he knows I’m not preeclamptic, but I’ve learned a long time ago to just roll my eyes anyway. Anyway, back to childbirth prep. We’re going through relaxation techniques and massage. Now, I never used to appreciate massage. It either hurt or tickled. Then again, I’m the wimp with a marshmallow muscle tone. However, maybe it will really help with labor pains; in that case, Mark can get ideas from Massage Brighton. I should start packing my bag. I’m only 8.5 months along, but at least that could be another thing out of the way. Of course, most of the prep would be for naught if I end up having a C-section. I have to be more consistent about my low-carb diet. Please yell at me to mind my diet if ever you see me.