It’s my middle name.
You know how I always tell you that you don’t need to be perfect? Well, I need to take my own advice today.
I’ve been feeling so down about the state of my house, because I feel like I’ve never really caught up after being so terribly sick all summer. I’ve gotten some rooms cleaned thoroughly, but others are still suffering (our bedroom – scary), and I just feel scatterbrained and disorganized, which I really hate. It’s not that I don’t want to clean everything up, it’s that physically, I can’t. I’m just too tired all the time, and lately, my ribs ache all day, every day.
It’s very frustrating to feel all nesty and gooey about the baby, and not be able to do anything about it. I did buy newborn diapers today, and I took one out of the package, and awwwww….! I forgot how tiny they are. The whole thing fit in the palm of my hand! Now, I feel really “clucky,” as my dear Aussie friends would say.
Now, at 30 weeks, I’m starting to feel the changes in my body that tell me the baby will soon be here – contractions after bursts of activity (fortunately, they always settle down when I’m at rest – I’m pulling for NO MORE BEDREST during this pregnancy), and remember my previous woes about my chest? Well, to say that I don’t even recognize myself anymore is really an understatement. I didn’t think they could get much bigger, but every time I get in the shower, and catch sight of myself in the mirror, I almost pass out from shock. Seriously, I could be in movies (the naughty kind, I mean. Not that I watch those kinds of movies, or would even consider being in one. I’m just trying to make a point here).
Fortunately, my husband is still just pleased as punch about the whole thing. If I come to bed wearing a tank top, his eyes practically spring right out of his head, and I have to scoop his jaw up off the floor.
Also, you know how some people buy a soda to drink while shopping? Not me. Today I bought a quart of chocolate milk, and guzzled the entire thing while wandering around the grocery store. I was getting some serious looks, probably because I had a milk mustache, but I didn’t even care. Seriously, what is it with me and milk? During pregnancy, I just can’t get enough of it, and this pregnancy makes me want to drink gallons. The other night, I drank a 16-ounce glass at dinner, and asked my husband to bring me some more. He filled my glass half full, and I looked at him like, “HELLO! What’s this?” He said, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you more. I just have to open a new jug!”
My husband has been sweetly supportive of all my weird cravings, which always seem to hit about 9:00 P.M., requiring him to run into town and buy me something. For a while now, I’ve wanted butterscotch pudding, but a few nights ago, I needed cake…and he actually baked me a yellow cake with chocolate frosting. At 8:30 P.M. God bless him.
So, to summarize, my house is falling apart, I want to sleep 20 hours out of every 24, this kid has his feet permanently wedged in my ribcage, my boobs are so big that I’m starting to look like a cartoon version of myself, and I’m considering the purchase of my own dairy cow.
I need some serious cheering up.
