Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Says the Not-So-Good-Little-Pregnant Girl ...

Y'all know the Good-Little-Pregnant-Girls I'm talking about? The ones who never, ever complain. The ones who never need a nap. The ones who cook dinner for their kids. The ones who enjoy their baby's feet torturing their rib cage. The ones who drink a gallon of water a day (and eat their fruits and veggies). The ones who get dressed every day. The ones who have the nursery done and their bags packed and a midwife in mind for delivery well before 32 weeks. 

I am trying so hard to be that Good, Little Pregnant Girl. I mean did you see my IG post this morning? Before like 7:30? I was out doing my morning walk, enjoying the sunrise. See. I am trying to be positive.

And y'all, it just ain't working. 

I am crampy and complainy and achy and ill.
I am exhausted.
I am swelled. 
I am hormonal.
I want to be a hermit.
I want to eat Doriotos and watch Dr. Phil all day.
I wish my children would just sleep or watch TV.
And my bedroom looks like the victim of a tornado.

And quite frankly, I think someone should bring me Chick Fil A, Marco's Pizza or Gezzo's when I call for it. I mean a large sweet tea would be nice at dinner time. Ya know? And a big, fat burrito loaded with cilantro, cheese and sour cream.

I'm pretty sure my husband is enjoying cutting grass in the scorching heat, being slammed with homework and having longer than usual hours at Costco. Because I am a little crazy right now. And feel like I'm dying. And he gives me no sympathy. None. No foot rubs. Nothing.

Dang it, I need some flippin' sympathy here!! Says the Not-So-Good-Little-Pregnant Girl.

And I'm pretty sure my children think I'm a fat, lazy Momma who never wants to put on regular clothes or share her Doritos. And while I am completely telling on myself, I feel like I am totally burdening them with me being pregnant. I feel like I say a thousand times a day, "In just a minute" or "Please just let me lay here". 

Daggummit, I have every right to lay on the couch all day! Says the Not-So-Good-Little-Pregnant Girl.

I am also staring at a crib that will not, I repeat will not, put itself together. Along with a shelf that won't screw itself to the wall either. And then there's my husband who is worried about finishing a dang clubhouse in the backyard and pressure washing the deck.

Oh! The audacity that man has!! Says the Not-So-Good-Little-Pregnant Girl.

Eight more weeks.
Technically, seven weeks and three days. But who's counting?

With the way these hormones are lookin', I could be blogging tonight about all the joys that come from being pregnant. Who the heck knows.

Until then ...

1 comment:

  1. First of all SHOW ME THAT DRESSER!!! Second of all, you're doing great and you're almost there! We all feel this way. Trust me, you are in GOOD company!!