Please consider this my request for a temporary leave of absence from real life.
Let me first apologize to all the amazing women out there who love being pregnant, are good at it, never whine, and never feel better than when they are pregnant. Please understand, I love the baby I get in the end and am so thankful to God for blessing our family with him. But I'm not so good at being pregnant.
As such, I would like to go on record and say, "I am done." I am done acting like I can still do all the things I could do when I weighed substantially less and could bend at the middle. I don't want to weed the flower beds. I don't even want to plant flowers. And I love flowers. I don't want to scrub the shower (that thing is shrinking by the way!). I don't want to clean behind the toilets (boys, it's a big bowl - let's work on this!). I don't want to pick food up off the floor. (I let a rubber band lay on the floor for three days, hoping I could will it back up to the counter. Didn't work.)
I'm even having trouble finding the motivation to wash baby clothes. The bed is made. The blankets are clean. Some sleepers are ready go do. I won't be wearing "real" clothes for a few weeks. Why should he have to?
I would like to put my feet up (I got a pedicure this weekend, I don't mind looking at my hugely bloated toes anymore), sip cranberry limeades, maybe read a People magazine, and eat brownies (perhaps smothered in icing).
Thank you for permitting me this little blog breakdown.
1 comment:
Hang in there Cara, you are on your final lap. I have to confess that I secretely enjoyed my forced bed rest in the hospital for the last 2 weeks of pregnancy. Maybe your Dr could give you a Rx for that.
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