Moving out … moving in …

January 2nd… no 3rd? or maybe the 5th or the first Saturday in January… who knows! We came various days into our new ‘home’ to clean, clean and clean some more. I was about 40 weeks pregnant and jumping on the counter tops to clean the cupboards. Needless to say, I was also moping the floors and moving things in and out. Hey! Nothing stops me from getting things done. Throughout my whole pregnancy I hiked up to 10 kilometers twice, moved boxes in and out various times, juggled with heavy luggage over three months, walked 14 flights of stairs a few times, got on the treadmill and even chased your grandma Charlie around for days on end. Believe me, you do not want to chase your grandma with a 25 pound belly… but I had to! I had no other choice. I was a guest in their home and a pregnant cow at that who was probably eating all of their food. 
We moved out, drove down to ***** (name out due to safety reasons, at least until we move out), on the highway we almost lost our furniture and got killed by speeding cars driving too close to us. Almost! 
We moved in, got set up, your grandma Lucy came to stay with us for a couple weeks, and we waited…. every day… we waited. You were too happy in there I guess, because nothing I did, or grandma tried to make me do, ever worked to get you out. We were running out of ideas.   
First she brought some strange voodoo leaf, which I had to boil and let the steam go up my private area. She made me walk hours on end every day until I was in pain. Then she made me run on the treadmill, walk up the stairs, drink raspberry tea, do lounges, dance, clean…. oh lord! I tried everything on the book of old wife-tales to get you out, but since nothing worked we scheduled an appointment to get induced.