Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Lean In (Not the trendy way. The other way.)

The time has come in the pregnancy where I am having to lean in. 
Literally. Lean in to pee, that is. Not the other lean in. I know that is a thing, but I don't watch the news much. Instead I lean in to pee, cause there is a person in there the size of a rutabaga (I don't really know what that looks like, that is just what Babycenter told me) sitting on my bladder and I have to push him out of the way. You know what I am talking about ladies. The lean. Every 30 minutes. Or fifteen, depending on how much coke sweet tea green tea water you are drinking. 

It is also the time when this is happening...

I am panicking because the only thing I have done to the nursery is taped 75 grey paint swatches to the wall in the guest room.

Everyday someone that lives with me comments on how big my underwear is now. I am growing a person here people, how about a little more reverence and a little less snickering. It's the gift of life a-holes.

I made brownies on Sunday and realized today that I may be the only person in the house eating them. It is Tuesday and there are only 4 left.  Well done, me.

I can't sleep because my sciatic nerve is being plucked by an invisible giant who thinks my rear end is a banjo. Every time I roll over/breathe too deep/sit up I think Hubs has tased my hiney. This is probably why I feel like I would feel better if I could slap his face.

I have exactly three items of clothing for the dude. I am thinking we may have to create swaddling clothes out of LadyB's old pink blankets. 

He has no name. He has name possibilities. He has names we are tossing around. But nothing that can be agreed on. Unless I decide I really do like Ultimate Warrior. Then the discussion is over and we just have choose between calling him Ultimate or Warrior. Because I can't stand double names for boys. 

I have to figure out a way to make my 3.5 year old sleep through the night again so I am not having to get up with a both her and her brother. Because getting up with just one is bad enough. Being double teamed will surely kill me.

The maternity pants I bought two months ago are already too small.

This is the nursery. I should probably put it on Pinterest.
(Photobomb compliments of Honey Badger)








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