Ticking like a time bomb

I've now reached T Minus One - my due date is one week today. The doctor says the baby's head is engaged, and I do feel like she's moved down a bit in the last few days which I hope is a sign of the beginning of the end. Like most expectant mothers, I'm looking forward to the end of pregnancy - I would now like my body back, I'd like to get out of maternity clothes, and I can't wait until my internal organs are all back in the right place and no longer being crushed by an intruder.

I'm also aware though, this being the second time round the block, that the hard work has not yet begun, and so my eagerness to dispense with the pregnancy stage and get going with the baby stage is surprising me. The first three months with a new baby are no picnic - pregnancy should be considered as 12 months, since babies don't settle for at least 12 weeks, and I remember this as being very true with Isabel. I saw the girls in my NCT class today for morning coffee - two of them are overdue and very keen for their babies to arrive which now strikes me as strange since without a child to look after they can do whatever they want with their days. Such as spending it all day in bed (sounds idyllic!). They were all talking about ways to induce labour (eating ripe pineapples apparently, and spicy food), but I'm not that desperate. Whenever Pumpkin arrives will be fine with me so long as she's fit and healthy, and I'm not keen to be induced if she's late. Since the dating process is clearly flawed (pregnancies in France are defined as being 41 weeks, not 40, for example!) then being early or late seems to me to make little difference. The only thing which would persuade me to be induced would be if I found that the baby was getting really large - since that's clearly not the case, given the size of my bump, letting nature take its course is my preferred option for now at least.