I guess I was getting a little cocky, thinking I could get off the couch. Yesterday's contractions -- that are carrying over today -- proved me wrong. I guess I did too much.
What is "too much"? Wednesday morning I drove to my doctor's appointment, picked up a part for my car, dropped off insurance paperwork, and drove home. Wednesday night, I went up and down the stairs probably 4 times after our power was out, to make sure the kids were all adequately covered and everything vital was unplugged. Thursday morning, I stood at the griddle long enough to cook a dozen pieces of french toast, after the girls had made the batter and set the table and plugged in the griddle.
And that's it. Too much. Couch bound I am, remote in hand, cell phone in reach, iced tea and little brother on the way to be my gopher. Some people have pool boys, I have a laundry boy. God bless Him! (Remind me of this month when I complain about helping him maintain his apartment or filling meds or whatever else. He's been wonderful.)
And, hey, at least I'll have plenty of time to make more phone calls regarding FMLA, AFLAC (still praying they'll accept this claim), and so much more.