36.75 weeks
This pregnancy stuff is exhausting. Like any athlete, or professional, or person who has ever pushed their boundaries knows - the more you learn, the easier the stuff before it seems. So this pregnancy has been pretty easy so far. We haven't stressed about each new week and each minute little change, because with 2 other wee ones in the house, there is just too much other stuff to think about. My work has been so consuming and when I wrap that up, it's time to do the work of teaching 2 sassy and willful little girls how to be polite, intelligent, and semi-decent in public. And go to bed and stay there. Why is that such a hard concept to grasp?! It's also time to remember to eat something nutritious (because I probably ate PBnJ lunch at my desk. Again.) Maybe get some exercise in (because this time let's just say that I'm not as concerned with my weight gain, and exercise is low on my priority list.) Try to have a conversation with my husband where we are not being bombarded by a constant stream of chatter (that results in him getting overwhelmed by all of us and me getting mad at him getting mad.) And squeeze in some sort of "down time" (that usually involves household chores).
This is Americana. This is glorious glorious life and opportunity, and if I sound ungrateful for it that's not true at all. Even in the middle of a stupidly long run training for some ridiculous race where I am completely hating each step, I still love it. The fact that I live in a world where I can do these things, with a body that can do these things. When I hate the crazy and the stress, I love it. But I majorly digress...
This pregnancy stuff is exhausting. I've gained like 30 pounds, which puts quite a bit of stress on a body. Couple that with the fact that it's growing an adorable little parasite, and physically I am feeling it. I go to bed at night in a giant nest of pillows to support my weird proportions (because your ligaments are really just not excited about this, and tend to spasm at the slightest provocation), and once I settle in, this beached whale does absolutely not want to move. Except that I have to, because one headstrong 2 year old is going to come in about 5 times to wake me up in the middle of the night and that requires my parenting side to put her back in bed. Or depend on my husband to do it, but eventually I feel bad for the guy. :) During the day, I'm just all kinds of fuzzy. I'm sure you've all seen my ditzy side, but this is not an occasional occurrence anymore. This is like stream of consciousness spilling from my mouth with no filter whatsoever. I pity the people that work for me and used to depend on my organization. Ha. Good luck, suckers. I'm going to ask you to do about 8 conflicting things and then forget I asked at all. Until 3 days later, when I get pissed that you didn't do it because I forgot I told you not to. You're welcome.
So what I'm saying is that I'm tired. My whole world has condensed down to 4 more full days of work, and then walking slowly around my house focusing on nurturing this little life through a few more weeks of incubation. And then, I'm afraid all hell breaks loose. Because while I think we've gotten the hang of 2 monsters, we are TIRED. And I'm pretty sure 3 is going to push us past the brink of life as we know it into some great beyond. I'm hoping (with a noticeable air of desperation), that the great beyond is totally worth it, like finishing that first half-marathon or triathlon was. Lots of work to achieve something profoundly epic (and yet quite mundane).
This is Americana. This is glorious glorious life and opportunity, and if I sound ungrateful for it that's not true at all. Even in the middle of a stupidly long run training for some ridiculous race where I am completely hating each step, I still love it. The fact that I live in a world where I can do these things, with a body that can do these things. When I hate the crazy and the stress, I love it. But I majorly digress...
This pregnancy stuff is exhausting. I've gained like 30 pounds, which puts quite a bit of stress on a body. Couple that with the fact that it's growing an adorable little parasite, and physically I am feeling it. I go to bed at night in a giant nest of pillows to support my weird proportions (because your ligaments are really just not excited about this, and tend to spasm at the slightest provocation), and once I settle in, this beached whale does absolutely not want to move. Except that I have to, because one headstrong 2 year old is going to come in about 5 times to wake me up in the middle of the night and that requires my parenting side to put her back in bed. Or depend on my husband to do it, but eventually I feel bad for the guy. :) During the day, I'm just all kinds of fuzzy. I'm sure you've all seen my ditzy side, but this is not an occasional occurrence anymore. This is like stream of consciousness spilling from my mouth with no filter whatsoever. I pity the people that work for me and used to depend on my organization. Ha. Good luck, suckers. I'm going to ask you to do about 8 conflicting things and then forget I asked at all. Until 3 days later, when I get pissed that you didn't do it because I forgot I told you not to. You're welcome.
So what I'm saying is that I'm tired. My whole world has condensed down to 4 more full days of work, and then walking slowly around my house focusing on nurturing this little life through a few more weeks of incubation. And then, I'm afraid all hell breaks loose. Because while I think we've gotten the hang of 2 monsters, we are TIRED. And I'm pretty sure 3 is going to push us past the brink of life as we know it into some great beyond. I'm hoping (with a noticeable air of desperation), that the great beyond is totally worth it, like finishing that first half-marathon or triathlon was. Lots of work to achieve something profoundly epic (and yet quite mundane).
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