Negative three...

Still pregnant. I have an appointment today, we'll see if anything's actually going on.

Negative two...

Still pregnant. Enough said about that.

In honor of all the barbecues going on today, I feel the need to share with you the best grilled salmon recipe ever. You have to start with wild salmon though. Atlantic salmon is not real salmon. Atlantic = Farmed salmon. Don't waste your money on something that's been dyed to resemble the real thing because it doesn't taste anything like salmon should really taste. Trader Joes has frozen wild salmon and frozen wild is better than fresh Atlantic. (I can't help my salmon snobbery, once you've had the good stuff you just can't go back.)

1 salmon fillet (size depends on the number of people)
Cedar grilling plank (you can find these in your meat department)
Maple syrup
Garlic (a couple of cloves, crushed)

Soak cedar plank in water for about 5 minutes, then remove. Combine maple syrup and garlic. Place salmon fillet on cedar plank and brush with syrup mixture. Place plank on grill and cook until done. Don't overcook! (Have a baking sheet with a little water in it ready to place plank on when done as it will still be smoking when you take it off the grill.) Serve. Simple, fast, delicious!

Negative one...

Still pregnant. Oh well. We're going out for dim sum this morning. And really, what's better? Dim sum or a squalling newborn? I'd rather she just stay in there for a while. I couldn't possibly miss out on delicious steamed dumplings and, later, a tasty bubble tea shake. Maybe we'll get a smoking deal on copper river salmon at the grocery store in the International District and we can grill tonight. Oh yeah, don't want to miss that. Stay in there for a while, Mia. (Do you see my clever use of reverse psychology here? I think it might work.)

Due date...

Still pregnant. Maybe she'll just be a very punctual baby and will be born today? I'm not getting my hopes up. I still feel OK, actually. Well, except for the feet thing. I don't have a single pair of shoes that I can put on comfortably. I also can't stand in one place for too long or my back starts to hurt. But most of the standard pregnancy complaints have passed me by. No heartburn, no trouble sleeping at night, no constipation (weren't you dying to know?), no bladder trouble, no extreme moodiness. I feel like I could carry the baby for another month (if I didn't have to leave the house and put on shoes. Or clothes). I just want to meet her and see her face. I can't wait for Fiona to meet her sister and Andre to meet his new daughter.

1 day to due date...

Still pregnant. We're planning a nice relaxing day of waiting for the plumber. If it ends up being scheduled right, we'll go to the beach again. It was really fascinating yesterday, we went at low tide which was three feet lower than normal because of the full moon and the spring tide. We walked way down out onto the mud flats and looked at all kinds of crabs and starfish and sea snails and other creepy ocean dwellers in the tide pools. I think I sunburned my cankles.

2 days to due date...

Still pregnant. But at least I'm not at work anymore! Woohoo! It's supposed to be in the high 80s today, so we're going to the beach. I've decided that the baby's never coming out so I might as well have a good time.

3 days to due date...

Still pregnant.

4 days to due date...

Dear full moon,

You suck! Thanks for nothing.

Signed,
Still pregnant

5 days to due date...

Still pregnant. Full moon tonight, please cross your fingers that does the trick. Off to work...

6 days to due date...

Still pregnant. I did get to go see Star Wars with my dad last night and I'm glad about that. I saw the first movie in a theater with him when I was 4 years old and now I feel our geek circle is complete. I'd like to thank Phil, one of my sister's commentors for completely ruining all of Sam Jackson's scenes by making me add a mental "muthafucka" after every single one of his lines. "You will join the Jedi Council, but you will not become a master, Muthafucka!!" I'm off to see it again today with Andre (we couldn't get a babysitter so I'm taking turns going with both of the guys).

7 days to due date...

Still pregnant. Maybe we can see Star Wars this weekend!

8 days to due date...

Still pregnant. I was half expecting to go into labor last night. We saw a rainbow as we were eating dinner - we also saw a rainbow the night before Fiona was born. And apparently we're incredibly superstitious old women who should be throwing salt over our shoulders and spitting at any mention of the devil. Anyhow, no signs of labor.

Off to work, it's a 12 hour day today. Whee!

9 days to due date...

Still pregnant. If the baby had any sense of symmetry, she'd be born today. Fiona was 9 days late, she should be 9 days early, right?

Oh well, off to work.

10 days to due date...

Still pregnant. Still working. Still crabby.

Wager worthy

We're having some work done on our building at work so there are routinely burly construction workers walking through the back halls. I usually bump into them while they're waiting for the employee elevator (which can take as long as 6 years to get to the top floor). Yesterday, I walked by a couple of guys waiting for the elevator as I was coming back from the bathroom. I saw a couple of my co-workers at the end of the hall and stopped to talk to them. A couple of minutes later (seriously, the elevator takes at least 15 hours to come when you push the button) one of the construction workers came running down the hall and said, "Excuse me Miss! I bet my buddy five bucks that you're having a boy!" I laughed and said, "Sorry! It's a girl." The other guy started cheering and the running guy walked back and kicked his bucket. 12 hours later, the elevator came. I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've ever been wagered on. I'm easily amused.

Dream baby

For all the crazy dreams I've had during this pregnancy (axe murdering my syphilitic brother, sexual relations with co-workers, etc.) I hadn't had a single dream about the baby. I dreamed about her last night. She was gorgeous in my dream, she looked a little like Fiona when she was born - just as blonde and chubby. She was of course about 4 months old in my dream instead of being a newborn, but still! I gave birth, nursed her (which she did perfectly because she's a prodigy already), cooed over her a bit, then promptly asked my sister to babysit and went out to a bar with Andre. I'm such a good dream mother.