Thursday, December 16, 2010

Twas two weeks before Christmas...

Twas two weeks before Christmas...oops, I think we are down to a week and 2 days. Lets try this again.

Twas a week and 2 days before Christmas 
and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring not even a ...

What was that sound?

Oh I give up!

I sleep on the couch now. No, it's not because my husband can't stand my big pregnant butt hogging the entire bed. And it's not because I'm about as crazy as a bat and I get put in the dog house for losing my temper. It is because this precious (insert both truth and sarcasm at that word) child is trying to kill me.

I know.
I know!
I'm pregnant.
"I got myself into this mess"...with a little help.
and "it's totally worth the wait".
I know.

I have a little over 6 weeks left and I have to tell you: I AM MISERABLE! Claire is only comfortable when she is bouncing on my diaphram. Oh no, I don't get to experience the pleasures of my baby happily bouncing on my bladder and maybe tinkling a little in the grocery store line ( sorry men, but if you're a woman and you've had kids, you are laughing at this because you know it's true ) I instead have the wind sucked/knocked/kick/jabbed/or punched out of me on a regular basis. To make it even better, if I even attempt to lay flat on my back, I physically can not inhale oxygen. Which leads me to my 2 previous statements:

1) Claire is trying to kill me. and...
2) It explains why I'm sleeping in an upright, inclined position on the couch. Which should also explain why I'm currently cheesing mouse traps as I type so that I can take pleasure in destroying the mouse who was running around in my stove keeping me up all night last night!!!!

I'm not sure how every other woman in existence has been able to do anything for Christmas with a baby close at hand. Actually, I was told ALOT of women go in to labor right now, trying to get everything done in order to prepare for the holidays before babies arrival. But what about the women like me? The ones who have little time but more than enough to know that they aren't going to have to spend Christmas IN the hospital, but are just done with life in general? (again, sorry men. women who have had kids: I know you remember that final month and a half of swollen ankles, water retention, heart burn, and mood swings....or maybe you don't, because I might not have opted to do this again had I remembered P.S. I think Aaron agrees!)

I'm tired and exhausted and the walk from the bedroom...I mean COUCH to the bathroom in the middle of the night is enough to get me winded and ready to sleep again. Now I have to do Christmas shopping? WHICH, by the way, HAS BARELY BEGAN!

Alright, I'm done complaining. Writing about my problems is just freaking me out more.

Bottom line:

-I have a healthy (although killer) jumping pineapple (that's how big she is now)
-Emily is healthy as an ox and eating me out of house and home.
-I have a husband who is as happy as he can be with an often crazy wife and knowledge that more estrogen is about to become the norm for him.
-We all have a roof over our heads
and food on the table.

Wait...scratch that last one. I need to go grocery shopping.

Someday I will put pictures up. I promise. Just don't give up on me.

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