I’ve started preparing for my maternity leave. It’s all still a little unclear when exactly I’ll be leaving and when I’ll be returning, but the basic, tentative plan is to leave for Thanksgiving break and now return until sometime in mid- to late- January. I have about a bazillion Word documents under construction at work, with step-by-step instructions on how to do All Of The Things that need to be done while I’m gone. With screenshots. Because I’m a control freak and it all needs to be done My Way. Otherwise it’s wrong. Obviously. But, I have to say, I’m pretty proud of myself for not adding to the bottom of each mini-manual, “Just call me if you have any questions!”
I’m tired. So tired. I don’t have the energy to be Superwoman, but apparently I need to find said energy because apparently that’s just the way things are going to be. There’s a phrase, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” It’s never really struck home with me until now. Except now, it’s more like, “If you want something done at all, you have to do it yourself.” And so, yes, I’m tired. But I’m slowly accepting the fact that for the next 18+ years of my life, I’m just going to be fucking tired. Get used to it, lady.
I hurt. All over, everywhere. Baby is a mean little boy (and I say that with more love than you can possibly imagine… even when I call him a little jerk). Yesterday I could actually feel his little foot on my rib. You know, that one rib that’s already poking out an inch further than all my other ribs. I really didn’t realize pregnancy could be so painful. I mean, I knew giving birth would be painful, but when I still have almost two months to go? Seriously, didn’t know I’d hurt this bad. There’s nothing I can do for any extended period of time without being in pain. Can’t stand for too long – it hurts my back and ankles. Can’t sit for too long – it hurts my shoulders, ribs and back. Can’t lay in bed in the same position for too long – it hurts everything. I am constantly waking up through the night – a night when I only wake up twice is a GOOD. NIGHT. The other night, I woke up at 11:30, 12:30, 3:30 (hooray for three consecutive hours of sleep!) and 5:00 before finally getting out of bed at 5:45. Fuck me.
Baby showers are coming up. My sister is planning one at her house that will turn into an over-nighter for some of us, and I’m so, so excited. Mostly because she keeps talking to me about the food that will be there. We’re doing a fall theme (since the nursery will be decorated in forest animals, it kind of fits) and the desserts? Apple crisp and pumpkin pie. Yum. Also, yes I realize how kind of ironic it is that we’re decorating in forest animals. “Aw look, Baby. See how cute that little deer is? And the bear? DADDY KILLS THOSE AND SOMEDAY YOU WILL TOO.” We’re a morbid family. But look at the cute things that are already on their way to us!
My family members kind of kick ass.
Last weekend, my best friend (who never tweets) came to visit. She taught me how to make homemade peppermint patties (that I wish I had pictures of, but I don’t) and if you know me at all you know that’s a big deal because hi, I don’t bake. But, as P says, I didn’t even use the oven so technically it wasn’t baking, but whatever. I MADE CANDY. It was good. We also made this homemade Winger’s sauce/chicken and I almost almost died it was so good. I miss Winger’s. (No, Winger’s is not paying me to say that, nor am I receiving free food from them. But, hey, Winger’s PR people? I’D DEFINITELY TAKE SOME FREE FOOD FROM YOU GUYS.)
Annnnd now I’m hungry. Again. Because I can’t eat a proper meal these days and instead have to eat 5-6 kiddie-sized meals because there’s no more room in my belly, y’all.