22 weeks update

by humanmama on March 12, 2012

I guess I’m at 22 weeks. Which means there are 18 weeks left, or for me, 17. Thank you, scheduled c-section.

Most of my days go as you might have thought, very slow and very fast at the same time, with BAM! BAM! BAM! thing after thing to do. Like, Get up, get everyone downstairs for breakfast. Cook. Serve. Eat. Force kids to eat. Clean up. Go upstairs. (This all occurs with several breaks/bathroom breaks/breakdowns.) Then, get dressed, make their beds, make my bed, get ready [did I take a shower yet? I can’t remember], they play, I get back downstairs. I sometimes watch my neighbors’ kids and she drops them off before this occurs, so we’re all 5 upstairs instead of all 3, which makes things a lot more complicated and exciting. But more fun, usually.

Ahem.

I go back down, look at the calendar, check the internet for bank account info, etc., get Helena’s bag ready for school, get her off, sometimes pick up another kid or two and take them to school too…then maybe get Lilly to Ballet or back home because by then [this is the pregnancy part] I can barely keep my eyes open and we play and then I “watch a show” with her which includes her watching and me sleeping.

Then we get Big Sister, come back, start dinner, get stuff out of backpack, look over schedule for tomorrow, eat dinner…(this is all with several, several breaks for cleaning up everything we have been getting out, commenced and overseen by myself). Then play (breaks for also fighting, disciplining, apologizing, and playing some more), clean, get washed up, PJs, stories, bedtimes, and it’s 9pm and time for my day to begin.

And in that small, fast hour or two (sometimes less) that I might have before bed, I might check my email and get something that reminds me that I’m with child, something that exists only in varying forms of exhaustion as a possibility for me all day long. Until after 9pm. Then I might get an email with a photo like this:

And think, Holy crap. I’m pregnant. Wow. And I obviously feel better, since I’ve not noticed all day. I feel sick, still, a little. And tired. Yeah, tired all the time. But pretty much not anything crazy. But then, the email. And  also around 9pm The Peanut begins the kicking and punching and I think, Oh Yeah. There You Are.

Kind of a little amazing.

Now off to bed before it begins again.

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