This isn't really complaining.

Because, God knows, I love the little guy. I still get misty when I think of the circumstances of his conception, I'm thrilled he's healthy, I love feeling him move around, I'm looking forward to meeting him. All that.

While I'm not exactly looking forward to the delivery itself, I AM looking forward to not having to carry him everywhere. Yes, there's the reminder of what Vicki Iovine called the Fourth Trimester, where they're just as dependent and attached but now you have diapers to change too. But it will be nice to let Daddy take care of that sometimes. I'm looking forward to lying on my back and not feeling like a turtle, as well.
My varicose veins haven't been bothering me much recently, but my back is very grateful when I take it easy. The few warmish-for-November days recently where I could get the kids out for a walk have been nice, though I'm waddling along behind them calling, "Mama can't move that fast! Three houses ahead is too far!" I think I'm ready to be done being pregnant this time around.

So when my doc said last week that she'll have us home for Christmas, I could have hugged her. To all those who have said, "Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful to have him on Christmas?" the answer is a resounding NO (add your own rude undertone). That means I'd be in the hospital when I'd much rather be home with my husband, our children, and a roasted turkey. My doc wants to be with her boys, too, not delivering mine. And if you can avoid having a child right on Christmas Day, why not do that much for him? He's going to feel cheated enough being born near it; it seems to be compounding the issue when you could have avoided it.

I'm guessing he'll be born the week before Christmas, somewhere between the 16 and 23, closer to the 16. Place your guesses in the comments.