Tuesday, May 27, 2008

40 weeks of fake pregnancy glow is coming to its unend.

Yesterday I went to Costco. When I left, I went to my car, opened the passenger side door and got in with my yogurt and hotdogs on my lap... and then honestly sat there for a good, solid, 4 seconds before it dawned on me that I was alone and driving.

So tomorrow is our fake scheduled c-section for Mr.Shife's and my fake, bastard, virtual love child that doesn't exist... If you have no idea what I'm talking about, shame on you. Keep up. Things move fast around here people... click here and it should catch you up to speed. I'm really excited, and kinda nervous. What kind of fake mother will I be? Will Mr.Shife step up to the virtual plate? Will he continue to deny this fake baby it's fictional birthright? But more importantly, the main question that isn't keeping me up at night is will it even be human?
Over the last 40 weeks, as this pretend fetus hasn't grown in my womb, I've seen several different possibilities of what sort of fake child we could not be bringing into this virtual world. The great part for you, my lovelies, is that I've managed to capture some of this fake baby's fake development on film (ok, Inner Voices, settle down. These are digital). So, here are a few photos I've managed to take in between fake morning sickness and virtual bastard baby brain. I know you all will be with us in the fake delivery room giving us your fake support while nothing really happens.
You probably remember the first two shots.

A baby giraffe? Could we be so lucky Mr.Shife?

I wasn't surprised to see our fake baby morph itself into a mouse.

I was surprised, mind you, to see that this fake baby has already been to Mardi Gras.

The weight of this fictional fetus hasn't taken a tole on my back at all, which is weird. My back hurt a lot in the last trimester with Everett.

40 weeks later... yet, it feels like only moments ago that I could still see my feet.
If I didn't get a picture of it, I'd have a hard time believing that there is a chance that this fake baby may be a 2litre.
Now this was scary. Mr.Shife probably doesn't remember how worried I was that our fake, bastard, love child was actually trying to abort itself.
I didn't need a real Dr to tell me that delivering scissors breach, even fake ones, would have me screaming for drugs.

Mr.Shife is non-responsive (He's so consistent. I fake love it. I always never know where he stands on anything) on his opinion on fake natural childbirth, but I'll tell you this; if this fake spawn ends up being a pineapple in real life, I'm totally taking the drugs. And after, I'll eat it if the munchies set in.

You can never have enough brushes kicking around. So a brush would be cool. Plus, you can just chuck it in a drawer when you need a break from fake loving it.

Considering this made up offspring is half Canadian AND I am the female equivalent to MacGyver I'm thinking a roll of duct tape is highly likely and completely practical.
I'm nervous at the possibility of delivering this wine glass. It's huge. And, well, it's GLASS.
The unreal thought of giving birth to a crack baby is just wrong. Even I can't believe I went there. I'm sure Mr.Shife has less than nothing to say about this possibility. Sometimes saying less is more, you know? I think the saying goes "Silence makes the heart grow fonder" or something like that.

Oh, and on a side note, I think I need to rethink my belt. It looks like its seen better days. And, I suppose it has, considering I got it in grade 10. They don't call me Dr.MakeDo for nothing!

Have a great weekend my lovelies!