It's Not Cute Anymore!

I'm so over being pregnant. It's not cute anymore! I'm definitely in the last few weeks and my patience has completely worn out. I'm tired but can't sleep. I can actually feel my fingers and feet swelling. I really don't like to see myself in the mirror...who's that old fat lady staring back at me? I cry at just about everything. And on top of feeling absolutely horrible about myself, I've got a nice little jealous streak going that has thrown Alec for a loop!

I'm done. I'm soooooo done! Several times a day, I wish with all I have for my water to break, but it won't. The bassinet is all set up, diapers are in the diaper holder, everything is washed and set up and ready for baby. Especially me! But baby could probably use a couple more weeks in the oven.

I get sad when I think about our family dynamic changing - only a few more weeks for Tucker to be any only child and the center of our universe. I feel like I'm sure every other mom of more than one feels - I hope I have enough love, time and energy to go around!

But I can't worry about any of that now. I just want this baby out and for our life with kids to begin!

33 Going on 39

Today marks our 33 week of pregnancy. I'm not sure if it's the beginning of the 33rd week or the end. I'm too pregnant and stupid to figure out the logistics, I just know I have a 33 on my calendar at work.

I'm so over being pregnant. The ants in the pants that I got with Tucker during the 9th month has hit me early this time around. I totally have ants in the pants and absolutely no patience with this whole pregnancy / miracle of life stuff.

This weekend, the baby has decided to put his seat in the upright position and buckle his seat belt for his final decent. His head is low...I mean LOW so now he's in perfect position to kick the ever lovin' life out of my ribs.

I don't have a cute little bump anymore and I'm far from glowing. I'm a big ol' lump of mama just waddling around red faced and popping Tums like nobody's business.

My hands are swollen as well as my feet. The one pair of shoes that offer a tad bit of comfort make my feet look like popover muffins.

Nothing fits. My shirts are way too short and the waist bands on all of my jeans end up hovering somewhere on the dark side of the moon that is my ginormous belly.

I think I need a haircut, a manicure, a pedicure - fun pretty girl things like that, but who am I kidding? I need to get this baby out, lose about 30 pounds and get in my sassy red high heels again!

The only hope I have is that my water will break. There's no turning back then! They can't give me something and make me go home and wait. Once the amniotic fluid flood begins, the only thing that can be done is birthing of the baby!

But I know that's selfish of me. The baby isn't quite finished baking. It's like when you add shredded cheese to the casserole then you need to bake for 15 more minutes until the cheese is all melted and bubbly. The baby isn't quite bubbly just yet...but almost!

I'm just tired and miserable and gross. I keep promising Alec that in a year, I'm gonna be one hot mama, but I want that NOW!

I have no patience. I need week 39 to be here now - whether it be the beginning of week 39 or the end - I'm not picky.