Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Weaving my own basket

I'm the tiniest bit of a wreck today.  And it's only a Tuesday.

But I'm off.  Terribly off.  It's hard to describe, but the best way to is that I'm anxious and distracted.  I bounce from 'to do' list item to the next, trying to feel like we're ready or prepared for the baby's arrival, the whole time knowing that it's simply not getting any damned closer.

And that's been hard this week. 

It's all little things, which fall from my sieve of a mind.  Cleaning under the bathroom cabinet - cause heavens if my family members see some mess or can't find one of the 50 rolls of toilet paper we have waiting for them.  Buying a lamp for Olivia or ordering the prints for the nursery.  Does the kitchen pantry need to be cleaned?  Yes!  Time to cull the toys in the living room to make room for a swing.  Oh holy hell...I forgot to put checking to see if the swing even works.  Every time I think I get closer to closing down a project/room/space of crazy in my brain...there's one other thing to do.
And can we talk about my weight?  Seriously?  I just passed my weight from my last pregnancy, with many more weeks to go.  Heaviest I've ever been in my life.  I literally make people gasp as I pass them by and I just want to scream I KNOW...I GET IT...I AM AS UNCOMFORTABLE AS I LOOK.  The only thing that's worse is the look I get from folks who don't believe how much more time I have to go.  Or the coworker who very pointedly asked if I was sure I'm not having twins.  Or the one that "feels like I've been pregnant forever!"  Seriously?  Eff you all.  You should know better. 

And I'm struggling to put this nervous energy anywhere productive.  I'm getting through projects at work well, but my brain is bouncing off the wall.  When I go home, I get through as much as I can, but am often too tired or completely unmotivated to tackle a big project before bed.  And no matter how many times I look at the calendar, it's still over 8 weeks until he arrives.  Oh good lord it feels like it's been 8 weeks forever.

No doubt my emotions have been double dipped in hormones with a side of sprinkles.  When oh when can I finally get to a point in my life when waiting isn't such a chore?  When I can graciously gaze forward in expectation while enjoying the calm of today.  Cause it's all calm over here.  Not really a lot of doc appointments yet.  Liv is healthy and amazing.  Work is busy in a good way.


I need a day off.  I need a day for myself - or even just a half a day.  When there's no work, no kid, no need to put on tents and tight shoes.  I need a vacation, but there's not a single one in the future.  Is it horrible that I almost wish I were sick enough to stay home just so I could rest?  Sigh.  LE SIGH.  Such drama in this prego's brain.

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