So you remember my
big whiny bitchfest about not wanting to switch my little one from his crib to a bed? It turns out I'm just a huge loser because we did it last night, and guess what? It went off without a hitch. We layed him in bed, we walked away, he slept. That's it. Yup, that's what I got all worked up over.
Nothing. Hey, that's cool with me. I'd rather deal with the 'I told you so' look that my husband will give me tonight rather than the bleary eyed 'what the hell did we do and how fast can we put the crib back together????' discussion.
See mom? Nothing to be afraid of....get me outta this thing
I've been toying with the idea of doing the "letter to my kid" thing on here...everytime I start to write it, it just becomes one of those sappy jesus re-born tributes, and no one wants to read that, except maybe me and my husband (
maybe). I still think it would be cool, so that should come in the next little while. Although, knowing the frequency of my blogging, I wouldn't do any breath-holding in the meantime.
I'm reaching that point in my pregnancy where things are pretty well blissful. I'm rarely sick, I'm cutely bumpish (24 week belly pics to come this week), I'm sleeping decently, our little son is kicking me often and people are being SO NICE to me. It's a huge slice of wonderful, actually. I'll come back and read this post in another 3 months to remember that I did actually enjoy a portion of being pregnant. One part that I am having a slightly hard time adjusting to is not pigging out at every meal. My stomach space has changed quite a bit in the last week or so - I need to switch to that small meals/more often schedule rather than the dinosaur-sized portions 3 times per day. I'm pretty much chairman of the board of the clean plate club, so it's hard for me to not eat every last bite, especially at restaurants. I'm all for leftovers, but like last night I got nachos, and we all know those aren't going to exactly heat up for the next day's meal, so I just had to stare longingly at those last chips lying there in the bottom of the plate, begging to be consumed. Oh, and that reminds me: Heartburn. Yeah, so it turns out that heartburn kinda sucks! It falls into that category of things that doesn't seem
so bad until you get it yourself. People would talk about it, and I'm like "eh, suck it up"....why didn't they tell me it was like you swallowed an iron poker and it's stuck in your chest? Honestly, metaphors are kinda necessary for that level of discomfort. Besides that, things really are going well. Although it's funny how the first time I was all about the pregnancy while fretting about the actual baby part...and this time, I'm just like "can we get this whole incubation thing over with so I can get my hands on my baby boy???"