insomnia

Well, as it is just past midnight, I suppose I am officially overdue. The boy did not come today, as was expected, and for the moment he seems content to remain in utero. I am glad that someone is content.
Much to my husband's chagrin, I hate suspense and anticipation and suddenly I find myself mired in it. So much so that it is past midnight and I am blogging rather than getting much needed sleep. I have tried all of the stupid tricks that can sometimes cure my insomnia, but none have worked. Well except for the ones I can't try, like Theraflu...
Of course I don't fail to recognize the irony--one day very soon I will be so sleep deprived that I could fall asleep with my eyes open. But now sleep eludes me. I just can't wait to see his little face. I keep wondering, what will he look like? Will he look like his sister did? Will he look like me, or like his father? Will he be a good sleeper? Will he be easy-going and easily amused or will he require much cajoling and arranging?
More than anything, I just want things to happen. I just want to be finished waiting--even if that means plunging headfirst into chaos I am ready to start it up. Do you hear that little guy? Aren't you tired of being cooped up in there?
My powers of persuasion are lost on him.
And by the way, is it possible for feet to swell to the point that they burst like an over-inflated balloon, because I am starting to be concerned...