Much Ado About Well...Nothing...

Alright, alright, I admit it - I am a slacker blogger these days. I find that it is difficult to be as prolific as I would like to be with just the two children under three factor; however, I must confess that I am now 35 weeks pregnant and quite frankly, I am tired. It is the kind of tired that you are certain could possibly label you as clinically insane and even when I know I am being unreasonable and acting like a complete loon, I can't stop myself. For starters, I am huge. In fact, so huge that I turned around on my front porch the other day and knocked our sweet, petite little four year old neighbor straight down on her bottom with my ridiculously-sized abdomen. The worst part? I didn't even feel it - it wasn't until I noticed she had fallen that I deducted it was due to my sumo-style gut. Yes, I do realize that I am pregnant, and you better believe I love that I can bring children into the world but oh my, did I ever forget how brutal the latter part of the third trimester can be... I remember with my last pregnancy, my beloved OBGYN, who I am driving an hour away to deliver with in another city because I love him so much, said to me "Mother Nature sure has a sense of humor - just when you should be getting rest, she makes sure you get up at least every two hours to go to the bathroom so you can feel as unrested as possible." Amen, brother - it is constant. I stop intaking fluids usually around 6 p.m. yet the spring religiously begins around 11 o'clock each night...Where is God's name does all of this fluid come from? Oh yes - must be from the bags deposited under my eyes and the fluid pooling in my ankles... My poor husband is, quite frankly, just plain scared of me these days and I must admit that I don't blame him. While chatting in bed last night, he made me 1) wet my pants because I was laughing so hard and 2) then proceeded to make me cry because I could not control my hysterical giggles at something that was not necessarily that funny but struck me as so at that given moment. I had spent the day as I usually do with a whirlwind of emotions (all the while hoping I am not doing long-term psychological damage on my children) that follow no predictable pattern other than you can guarantee that "Momzilla" will come out if the energy level is low. One moment I am crazy mom and the next I am June Cleaver...The moral of the story is that mommy is crazy, a little bit unstable, but mostly just tired. I have missed writing and am not sure if anyone is even still reading since I have been such a slacker; however, I did realize that while I love to get feedback from other people who have the same thoughts (or even different) as I do, I do write this primarily as an escape and to practice the craft I love so much. So please accept my sincere slacker blogger apologies and know that I have big dreams to be a little bit better...Once the fluid gets out of my ankles, of course...