Like tens of Americans, I did my duty and suffered through the debate last night, thinking at several points that had I birthed the baby a few days ago, I could be well on my way to complete and utter drunkenness courtesy of "My Friends," "The Middle Class," and "Energy and Health care."
It's no wonder we've got quadruple the voter turn out for American Idol than we do for the Presidential elections. I say just dress them up in black leather, make them sing Beatles songs, and let us call in our votes. It would be incredibly more entertaining and probably just as effective.
But clearly there are more important things at hand, like these nights full of contractions leading to nothing but no sleep and weird premonitions of the pushing to come. There is an ambivalence that I've had, at least for my 2nd and now 3rd children, about the actual birth. On one hand, I'm terribly excited to see them. On the other, I really don't want to have to get them out of there.
So to distract from that little set back to seeing my baby known as the birth, I'm breathing in my children, or really, chasing the littler one through the grocery store while trying not to strangle the older one for saying "Aaaaaaaaaaaw" after any and every thing I offer to her that she deems completely unacceptable.
And I'm filling my heart and mind with hope for what even the next day could hold for us.