I am typing this post on borrowed time. I know, technically we are all on borrowed time, but I also have no Internet access at home. I am typing this on my iPad using our meager 3G subscription, so if I suddenly disappear, you'll know what happened.
I blame the Mayans.
We've been without Internet for close to a week and it will not be fixed until late next week.
It's a long story involving poor customer service, several companies blaming each other for the problem, many hours spent navigating phone trees, a corrupt modem, and at least one occasion of a fully grown service technician actually rolling his eyes at me.
Even Rob, the mildest of the mild mannered, got off the phone one night proclaiming the service technician to be "less than useless." And here I thought it was just me . . .
So it's been the usual life of leisure around here.
I fully realize how, in the face of all that is happening in my personal life and the world at large, this problem sounds so frivolous. Even the fact that I can awkwardly type this on the iPad, kooky line spacing and all, is luxurious.
I am sure that God has an explicit plan for this sudden Internet fast . . . but still . . .I am really not good at fasting. I mean like epically bad, and I am sure that my twitchiness is a sign that I have the spiritual depth of a teaspoon.
All my grand plans for finishing up my online shopping have been shut down, and I've even taken to phone conferencing orders with Rob since he has Internet access at work.
Someone suggested I just go to a place like Barnes and Noble and use their wifi on the iPad, which would be totally awesome if I wasn't the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe. Barnes and Noble, shockingly, does not provide babysitting while customers sip coffee and browse the web reading blogs and answering email.
Who's idea was it to have all these kids anyway? Oh yeah, right . . .
Speaking of kids, guess who is NOT in the right position for birth?
Septimus Prime has decided an "unstable transverse lie" is the way he or she wants to chillax these days. As of my last appointment, SP was lying like a rainbow across my abdomen, with the head on the right and the bum on the left and all the little handsy/footsy parts dangling down and presenting first.
I can see how that would make a doc nervous, especially considering the cord could also slip down there and present first, which would be bad mojo indeed.
Luckily, my doctor is fairly calm and she is of the opinion that the baby will move on his or her own, just like Bun and Mopsy did.
I am praying and praying that SP decides to head out, literally, but my anxiety level is also creeping up there. Any spare prayers would be greatly appreciated, my friends.
In an effort to flip the baby and avoid a c-section, I consulted Dr. Google, just before our modem went belly-up.
My favorite suggested exercise to flip an inconveniently positioned baby?
Take my 9 months pregnant self and crawl HEAD FIRST on my hands and knees down a flight of steps.
Whatnowwhat?! I don't even think that's anatomically possible for me anymore, even with a spotter.
Forget about a c-section for a transverse baby, you'd have to be rushed to the hospital for a closed head injury!
One of the easiest exercises for flipping the baby is to rotate the hips back and forth and around and around -- "like a belly dancer," say the instructions.
To which Rob quipped, "that's how you got in this predicament in the first place."
The battery signal on the iPad has been glaring at me for the last 10 minutes and now it went and turned red, complete with a pop-up warning that my time runneth out. I guess that's my cue to scoot.
Until I can get myself yoked to the modern world again, happy weekend, my friends!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad