t-10: the birth ball

Wow, I've got to the NASA bit of the baby countdown. 10, 9, 8, 7,... well, you know how it goes.

That's really close. He could come any time now. (Though, I especially love those women who've gone late and looove to tell you about how they were two weeks late, three weeks late, etc. etc. Oh, I don't know what uncomfortable is, blah, blah, blah. How nothing worked. Thanks. Thanks a lot.) Tomorrow I'm officially at 39 weeks. But I'm not ready yet. And I especially don't want him to come this weekend.

Here are two reasons why:

1. The Eurovision Song Contest
2. The Birth Ball

What's the Eurovision Song Contest

Last year, Lordi - a Finnish rock horror band won the Eurovision song contest. Naturally, I blogged about it. Hurray the Finns. Well, this year - 24 more acts will be competing with their own ethnic versions of Euro-pop in fabulous downtown Helsinki.

The ViL and I have just finished watching the semi-finals. There used to just be the one big contest - but what with the fall of communism and Balkanisation and the break up of the Soviet Union - there are now a million more countries in Europe - and they all want a part of the song contest. So there are two stages - tonight we watched 28 mostly dire acts compete for the ten remaining slots in the final. The rest of the slots go to the four countries that kick in the most money to contest (Britain, Spain, France and Germany) and the ten countries that scored the highest in a phone-in vote last year.

It's all just so exciting, I don't want to miss it. If you like cheese - and I do - it's the annual fondue.

The Birth Ball

You may have heard of a birth ball. It's just a regular old gym ball, but apparently sitting on it will help position the baby correctly the pelvis. Good stuff, but that's not what I'm talking about.

Apparently, all the OBs and Midwives from miles and miles around will be attending their annual formal ball this weekend. The midwife who taught our class was so excited. She seemed to think that anyone who was anyone would be there. I can't tell you how confident that makes me feel. I can't imagine what kind of discussions they have over the punch. And what kind of music do they play at a Birth Ball...answers on a postcard please.

Please, Cletus, don't make mommy miss the Eurovision finals or labour unattended.


10 days til baby Cletus, (or at least hopefully not 'til Monday - we want to give those midwives Sunday to recover).