Basically I've been just too busy waiting to become a Dad. We're now a week overdue and it's like someone keeps shifting what day Christmas Day is. You know it's going to be soon, you put up all the decorations and get yourself excited and then it turns out it isn't the 25th at all, nor the 26th, 27th etc.. You just know that eventually the present you'll get will be amazing and you have to be patient, even though you know what it is and you know where it's hidden, you're not allowed to open it. Be patient.
I've tried to tell my wife that this is a great excuse to start eating Quality Street, but she's not buying into the Christmas metaphor in the same way. She's also sick of finding a half drunk glass of sherry and mince pie crumbs each morning.
Anyway, if it doesn't pop out on its own accord (or umbilical cord) soon they'll tempt it out by the end of this week. If it's any child of mine they should just waft a bag of fresh doughnuts under there and it'll soon poke its head out. So yes, we're just sit tight and wait for our delivery whenever that might be. Anybody would think it was the Royal Mail in charge of its birth.