Less than seven weeks to go. And as I sit here, literally throwing chunks of sloppy joe at my daughter for lunch, it's beginning to dawn on me that that's not really a lot of time. I've been patting myself on the back for the past several weeks because I have definitely hit the 'nesting' stage of this pregnancy and, because of this, I've been motivated enough to start cleaning house. And, because it's only on the rare occassion that I realize that this thing, this thing that I've been carrying around for the past several months? The one that is going to come shooting out from me in the next few weeks? That's going to be a baby. And then I'll be responsible to take that baby home. Why is it so hard for me to grasp that pregnancies usually end with another mouth to feed and another bottom to clean? Well, I don't know the answer to that question, and because of that, my nesting has consisted of me putting all the baby stuff away. And I've been sitting here congratulating myself that I finally cleaned up all of the things that Alex has outgrown... and then I realize that I will be taking my fat butt back into our storage places to gather all of these not-even-dusty-yet items back out and setting them back up. Go me. At least I will get some extra excercise in the next few weeks. Because that is EXACTLY what I need.
On a related note (yep, I promise, it's related), have you ever gotten a charlie horse in your groin? I can assure you, it sucks. I got one yesterday as I was walking thruogh my backyard, which had me walking like I had been riding a horse continually for, I don't know, the past 10 years of my life, and wincing with every step I took. I am only reminded of this now because, as I sit here typing, I can feel one threatening to happen again, which has me paralyzed with fear to the point where I don't want to end this post because that means that I will be have to get up and gather all of the sloppy joes that is now resting peacefully on the floor up. Which will induce said charlie horse to take over my lady parts and hurt me very very badly. Is that thing called labor and delivery and what-the-hell-happened-to-my-vagina not enough?? Must I endure these as well? Ack. Perhaps it has something to do with all of the contractions I have been getting for, I don't know, the past few weeks. I am getting about 5 or 6 a day now, and they are starting to twinge just a bit. Enough to usually make me stop walking and think nasty thoughts about my husband and his fertile nature.
Alright, Alex has taken to eating her shirt and yelling what I am sure are not nice things at me, perhaps trying to motivate me to get her something else to eat, because the sloppy joe is obviously not cutting it. At least Violet is enjoying it. Wish me luck with my groin. (I wish I could end every post with that sentence.)
1 comment:
Um, is it just me or is a charlie horse in your vagina a sign that your body is TRANSITIONING TO LABOR? Cause, yep, that's what it felt like to me. On that note, I've also heard that baby #2 usually is NOT late ... so uh, maybe you don't have seven weeks (just so you don't freak out if he should come oh, three weeks early as Ashley did. Ask my mom about THAT one sometime).
ANYWAY. BABIES. DUDE. That's heavy. As in, babies is now a PLURAL word. WOAH.
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