Sleep Deprived.
It's not fair, I still have an entire month before I'm supposed to be sleep deprived. It has nothing to do with bub moving around at night, it moves around all day long, non-stop, and actually sleeps at night. No one needs any sort of preparation for being up at night with a crying baby, what they need is sleep before it happens. Bah, I guess it's just me. I can't be on my back, or my stomach, or my sides...so unless they invent a sleeping contraption that allows me to stand up, well, it's just not fun. Note to self:
Sleep deprived + hormonal = bad combo.
Thank GOD for prayer, it's the only thing that keeps me self-controlled. Definitely not sane, but at least self-controlled.
Sometimes I lay awake watching Ben sleep. Not in the creepy/stalkerish way, and not in the loving-wife way, but in an extremely envious way that makes me want to punch him to wake him up so he's not sleeping either. A quick prayer, and BAM! self-control, no punching...yet.
I've come to the conclusion that people at work must be counting down the days to my going on maternity leave almost, if not more, than I am. This pregnancy 'brain' thing is insane...why do you think I haven't blogged in a couple of weeks? Oh, because I THOUGHT I had, and only just realized I had not. I have to write every single thing down or it just doesn't get done. People have conversations with me and I'm utterly zoned out and have no clue what they've just told me 3 seconds later. I've sent emails with no recollection of sending them. People are afraid to criticize a pregnant woman, which is annoying because I don't know if I've messed up until I discover it myself, but everyone else knows, and has known it. Have you ever seen an office man who is in an elevator with a crying pregnant woman? It's complete and utter horror on their face. It's like they've been transported to an alternate universe with torturous aliens waiting to eat his limbs...actually, I think he would rather be there than in the elevator for those 10 seconds.
My mind is a constant mood swing.
Luckily, I've been able to control what's in my mind with what I actually say to people, otherwise I might not have a month of work left. I mean, unfortunately Ben gets the brunt of it as I don't feel the need to be so cordial with him, but he's a gem and waves it off, hopefully. That or he's going to spontaneously combust at some point and I'll probably know why.
For example, someone saw me eating, of course, and thought they were jovial by saying 'hungry much?' and I just smiled and nodded. In my head I said 'Hey jerk-o, I'm nauseous and if I don't eat right this second, I will vomit on your face. Also, it's an apple, I could eat 10 of these guilt free. Oh, and in case you couldn't tell from the giant stomach, I'm 35 weeks pregnant, what's your excuse fatty?'
I gave an orientation presentation at work today. It wasn't a big deal at all and I don't get nervous speaking in front of people, so it surprised me when someone asked after if I had been nervous because I was all 'breathy'. I just smiled and explained politely that no, I wasn't nervous and if they had any questions they could direct them to my email later. I refrained from squealing out that the reason I was 'breathy' was because I was the size of a house and totally uncomfortable and yearning the days when I could see my feet and didn't appreciate the fact that zero people were actually listening to the presentation and frankly I could care less about the presentation because they would all ask questions in a week anyway. Or when someone commented that I didn't look pregnant. That's nice. But just because I was gaining weight all over instead of just my stomach. Thanks for that, really, I mean, thanks. Lots of things were in my head after that one.
You see, I'm concerned with the bigger picture right now, like, did I put pants on today before I left the house? Being that focused on the 'big' things make it impossible to remember/keep track of/care about the 'little' things like if I promoted some important document that 1,000 people need immediate access to. One month to go, one month to go...
People probably shouldn't be allowed to talk to pregnant women. Really, nothing they say is helpful. Advise is met with rolling eyes, kind words are met with sarcasm and un-intentional mean words are met with an imaginary punch to the gut, but in reality, tears. And for the love of anything, please do NOT give your opinion on the names of the baby. It's something we've put a ton of time into researching and praying about, so please don't google one crap website and think you know a different definition or meaning and feel the need to educate us or have the audacity to tell us we don't know the real meaning. It's offensive, and probably not that big of a deal, but with big ol' hormones rolling around up in here, it's strictly on my 'do-not-do' list.
Wait...what was I going to write? I can't remember. It was something...I'll have to get back to you on it.
So what are we up to these days?
We went to a weekend long hospital course. That was awful. I mean we're 'prepared' now, that, and utterly terrified. We also saw some friends of ours who had a baby the same weekend at the same hospital. A little perfect baby girl, and a beautifully radiant mum...how dare they? Don't they know they're supposed to be making me feel better by looking utterly horrible?! The audacity. Sigh. Glad they're doing well.
We had our cell group over for an evening and I realized our apartment is 100% not baby-proof. I figured we had a year to think about that, but little Andy and his 9 month old self got to be our guinea pig and bump his head, fall on some rough terrain and open a drawer full of knives in order to tell us we've got a bit of work to do. I'll put it on the 'to-do' list.
You may have seen some pretty great photos on Ben's facebook page of our beach camping adventure, that was great, all thanks to the weather. Bless God! I can't sleep anyway, so sleeping on the ground in a small back-packing tent without bathrooms or fresh water seemed to be a decent way to celebrate the 33 week club of pregnancy. It really was a great time though, always good to get away from the city. I gave up with it this past weekend though and we opted for a day-adventure to an island where all involved enjoyed the waves, and I strolled on the beach. I enjoy swimming and it's one of very few things I can actually do these days, however, it's all about the pros and cons. I could have gone swimming, but that would mean I would have to get clothes on at some point afterward, and putting clothes on is a major chore; one of which I'll probably fall over, tear something, and end up wet and sandy anyway. Just like I could drink more water, but that means I have to wee that much more often, and again, with the clothes, it's just so hard.
I spend my evenings looking at my giant 'to-do' list and end up crossing everything off to plop on the couch and watch some tellie while observing the size of my brick feet and wondering if they have a new word for these stumps. It's waaaay beyond the basic cankle, where the calf and ankle cannot be distinguished from one another...it's more the calf, bi-pass the ankle, and blend in with the foot, where some sausage toes peek out.
We are very excited, despite my lack of enthusiasm, I'm too tired to express into words our anxiousness, but it's there, I promise. Ben does a better job showing it, he's cute and is going to be the best dad in the world.
Well, I'll probably forget to write again. Or I'll end up posting this one twice. Oh well, I'll be back, either before or after the arrival of bub.
Cheers! :)
It's not fair, I still have an entire month before I'm supposed to be sleep deprived. It has nothing to do with bub moving around at night, it moves around all day long, non-stop, and actually sleeps at night. No one needs any sort of preparation for being up at night with a crying baby, what they need is sleep before it happens. Bah, I guess it's just me. I can't be on my back, or my stomach, or my sides...so unless they invent a sleeping contraption that allows me to stand up, well, it's just not fun. Note to self:
Sleep deprived + hormonal = bad combo.
Thank GOD for prayer, it's the only thing that keeps me self-controlled. Definitely not sane, but at least self-controlled.
Sometimes I lay awake watching Ben sleep. Not in the creepy/stalkerish way, and not in the loving-wife way, but in an extremely envious way that makes me want to punch him to wake him up so he's not sleeping either. A quick prayer, and BAM! self-control, no punching...yet.
I've come to the conclusion that people at work must be counting down the days to my going on maternity leave almost, if not more, than I am. This pregnancy 'brain' thing is insane...why do you think I haven't blogged in a couple of weeks? Oh, because I THOUGHT I had, and only just realized I had not. I have to write every single thing down or it just doesn't get done. People have conversations with me and I'm utterly zoned out and have no clue what they've just told me 3 seconds later. I've sent emails with no recollection of sending them. People are afraid to criticize a pregnant woman, which is annoying because I don't know if I've messed up until I discover it myself, but everyone else knows, and has known it. Have you ever seen an office man who is in an elevator with a crying pregnant woman? It's complete and utter horror on their face. It's like they've been transported to an alternate universe with torturous aliens waiting to eat his limbs...actually, I think he would rather be there than in the elevator for those 10 seconds.
My mind is a constant mood swing.
Luckily, I've been able to control what's in my mind with what I actually say to people, otherwise I might not have a month of work left. I mean, unfortunately Ben gets the brunt of it as I don't feel the need to be so cordial with him, but he's a gem and waves it off, hopefully. That or he's going to spontaneously combust at some point and I'll probably know why.
For example, someone saw me eating, of course, and thought they were jovial by saying 'hungry much?' and I just smiled and nodded. In my head I said 'Hey jerk-o, I'm nauseous and if I don't eat right this second, I will vomit on your face. Also, it's an apple, I could eat 10 of these guilt free. Oh, and in case you couldn't tell from the giant stomach, I'm 35 weeks pregnant, what's your excuse fatty?'
I gave an orientation presentation at work today. It wasn't a big deal at all and I don't get nervous speaking in front of people, so it surprised me when someone asked after if I had been nervous because I was all 'breathy'. I just smiled and explained politely that no, I wasn't nervous and if they had any questions they could direct them to my email later. I refrained from squealing out that the reason I was 'breathy' was because I was the size of a house and totally uncomfortable and yearning the days when I could see my feet and didn't appreciate the fact that zero people were actually listening to the presentation and frankly I could care less about the presentation because they would all ask questions in a week anyway. Or when someone commented that I didn't look pregnant. That's nice. But just because I was gaining weight all over instead of just my stomach. Thanks for that, really, I mean, thanks. Lots of things were in my head after that one.
You see, I'm concerned with the bigger picture right now, like, did I put pants on today before I left the house? Being that focused on the 'big' things make it impossible to remember/keep track of/care about the 'little' things like if I promoted some important document that 1,000 people need immediate access to. One month to go, one month to go...
People probably shouldn't be allowed to talk to pregnant women. Really, nothing they say is helpful. Advise is met with rolling eyes, kind words are met with sarcasm and un-intentional mean words are met with an imaginary punch to the gut, but in reality, tears. And for the love of anything, please do NOT give your opinion on the names of the baby. It's something we've put a ton of time into researching and praying about, so please don't google one crap website and think you know a different definition or meaning and feel the need to educate us or have the audacity to tell us we don't know the real meaning. It's offensive, and probably not that big of a deal, but with big ol' hormones rolling around up in here, it's strictly on my 'do-not-do' list.
Wait...what was I going to write? I can't remember. It was something...I'll have to get back to you on it.
So what are we up to these days?
We went to a weekend long hospital course. That was awful. I mean we're 'prepared' now, that, and utterly terrified. We also saw some friends of ours who had a baby the same weekend at the same hospital. A little perfect baby girl, and a beautifully radiant mum...how dare they? Don't they know they're supposed to be making me feel better by looking utterly horrible?! The audacity. Sigh. Glad they're doing well.
We had our cell group over for an evening and I realized our apartment is 100% not baby-proof. I figured we had a year to think about that, but little Andy and his 9 month old self got to be our guinea pig and bump his head, fall on some rough terrain and open a drawer full of knives in order to tell us we've got a bit of work to do. I'll put it on the 'to-do' list.
You may have seen some pretty great photos on Ben's facebook page of our beach camping adventure, that was great, all thanks to the weather. Bless God! I can't sleep anyway, so sleeping on the ground in a small back-packing tent without bathrooms or fresh water seemed to be a decent way to celebrate the 33 week club of pregnancy. It really was a great time though, always good to get away from the city. I gave up with it this past weekend though and we opted for a day-adventure to an island where all involved enjoyed the waves, and I strolled on the beach. I enjoy swimming and it's one of very few things I can actually do these days, however, it's all about the pros and cons. I could have gone swimming, but that would mean I would have to get clothes on at some point afterward, and putting clothes on is a major chore; one of which I'll probably fall over, tear something, and end up wet and sandy anyway. Just like I could drink more water, but that means I have to wee that much more often, and again, with the clothes, it's just so hard.
I spend my evenings looking at my giant 'to-do' list and end up crossing everything off to plop on the couch and watch some tellie while observing the size of my brick feet and wondering if they have a new word for these stumps. It's waaaay beyond the basic cankle, where the calf and ankle cannot be distinguished from one another...it's more the calf, bi-pass the ankle, and blend in with the foot, where some sausage toes peek out.
We are very excited, despite my lack of enthusiasm, I'm too tired to express into words our anxiousness, but it's there, I promise. Ben does a better job showing it, he's cute and is going to be the best dad in the world.
Well, I'll probably forget to write again. Or I'll end up posting this one twice. Oh well, I'll be back, either before or after the arrival of bub.
Cheers! :)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment
jot a note!