Sigh. Big Sigh.

So, a girl walks into her doctor's office and they say, put your feet up... for 3 days! Parum-pum.

Not much of a punchline, I know. Yesterday's little visit was much less exciting that the previous week's. In addition to being told I was 'looking a little puffy' (if toes that look like Vienna sausages are 'puffy,' I'm Father Christmas) I was sent home for a few days of bed rest. Nothing to be worried about at present, but something they're labeling 'possible preeclampsia.' Basically, a few numbers were out of line, and they're being cautious ... since they know that telling me to stay off my feet at work would be a waste of breath. Although bringing a couch to the classroom did cross my mind.

The good news is that, as of tomorrow, we're officially 'full term' and this baby can appear whenever he wishes. He's already more than big enough, so I don't mind if he just turns up a little sooner rather than later. Especially if that shortens this mandatory bed rest. (Don't get me wrong -- were it MY idea, it might be great. It's the medically necessary part that has me riled up.)

Since I've got some time on my hands, I'm currently planning to take over the world. So far, the plan involves getting off bed rest by Monday ... somehow. I know, it's an excellent strategy. In the meantime, I'll be here. Horizontal. In the house. Doing not much. Sigh. Big sigh.