Every night after I lie down with the boys for “just a minute” and sing them songs and talk with them about the day and answer their questions and listen to them laugh maniacally over I have no idea what, the thing that sounds best to me (besides a big chunk of chocolate) is to dive onto my own bed. Which Iwill not be doing for approximately 2 1/2 months. But whose counting? Besides me.
Also, the words that come first to my mind whenever I see Micah lounging on the bed, lying on his stomach, are, “Show off.”
Raise your hand if you can relate.
And someone mentioned to me last week that the last 12 weeks of pregnancy are the longest of your life. After careful thought and consideration I decided that the biggest reason for this, among the many reasons for this, is that I change my clothes about five times a day. It’s not just that nothing fits, it’s that everything I wear makes me look pregnant. Or feel pregnant. Which is an uncomfortable feeling, even if I’m not actually uncomfortable. And so I change my clothes again and again to try to find something that I feel better in.
Unfortunately, a new outfit does not mean a new day is starting. It just means I have a few more hours to kill until I become dissatisfied with my clothing choice and start digging to find something better.
(The above picture was taken a couple of weeks ago, for those who are curious.)