Waiting is the hardest part...

I've decide that doctors should not use words like "full term."  At 37 weeks, I finally feel 100% justified in my uncomfortable-ness.  Which means: my sense of decency has gone out the door.  I feel like I should be able to get away with murder...or at least this:

Yes, sadly this is me at work.  In a corporate office.  Where men wear suits and ties and women are often seen in dresses.  Worse than that, I'm not even embarrassed.

This week I went to the doctor and found out some amazing news...baby Pridgen is head down and weighs (give or take) 6lb 13oz.  He is pretty much ready.  Thank goodness!  And I definitely look like I'm about to pop:

I love this picture!  Mark's coworkers had a lunch shower for us last week at the art museum.  Bonus: my friend, Bree's, dad works there.  He snapped my picture to send to Bree, then took me on a personal tour of the Normal Rockwell exhibit after my lunch.  

I'm almost where I want to be at work (so no one gets left with my unfinished projects).  And the nursery is complete, minus wall decor.  We lack a baby bath tub, but should have all the other necessities.  Hear that, baby Al?  It's time!