Once a mother, always a mother.

Don't mind me. Just sitting on my thumbs waiting for this baby to arrive. Well, not exactly. Anyone who knows what it's like to have three young girls (particularly, my girls) can reliably assume that I'm still up and at 'em.
Today I set a record. This is the closest I have ever come to my actual due date without giving birth. Each of my girls was born 10 or 11 days early, after exactly 3 days of false(but painful) labor - so naturally, when I invited my mom to come and witness my fourth and final(?) birth, I could reasonably guess that scheduling a flight 11 days prior to my due date would allow ample time for her to come be my doula and stick around for a few days to help with the adjustment. Not so. I picked her up Monday night having experienced nary a painful contraction. Nor since then.
I know, I'm spoiled. How can I possibly complain when I've never even had to watch my due date come and go except with a newborn in my arms?
So despite my guilt that I have torn my mother away from her life at home so that she can wait on me hand and foot before baby comes, I'm rather enjoying it. Because she is waiting on me hand and foot! My kids have an extra adult to satisfy their endless needs, my floor is magically cleaned every night, my dishes are done before I can get to them, dinner is prepared in the background so that I can spend some quality afternoon time (a rarity) with my daughters and I can run errands while Anna's in kindergarten and the two younger ones sleep away. It is marvelous, simply marvelous.
Moms are amazing. But my mom takes the cake.