"With every breath try to create a little more space for your baby." -Meredith, my prenatal yoga teacher. I don't know if breath is going to be quite enough to make any difference at this point. I call these last few weeks "The Watched Pot Period" where peoples comments get more ludicrous and I call on my handy-dandy trick of pretending not to understand English. We were at the arb today and this series of old women kept re-iterating that "(I) really had my hands full." In jest, I told my sister that the next person to say something like that was going to get a kick in the throat. Then I realized that there's no way I could be giving any kicks to throat and that I'd have to delegate that to someone else. During the WPP, it is essential not to lose one's head game. To realize that historically, I have never gone early, my previous babies were late. I need to be very present-focused, note any contractions or pressures but do not let them distract or debilitate me until they are super-doozies that demand my attention. I am in marathon mode, a patient and persevering athlete, taking each stride singularly. Two fave comments from moms at nursery school: "Don't take this the wrong way; I think it's a girl because of the way that your bottom is spreading." (That was last spring when I was super-wishing for a daughter.) "I think you're going to go soon, I can see the animal in your eyes." So if the animal is, in fact, in my eye right now, he must be dormant or just sitting back with its feet up because ain't nothin doin with my cervix.