can't wait.

soooooooooo tired.

soooooooooo sore.


where my balance ziz zat?

I've been crafting...or more specifically, organizing my craft stuff with a feverish passion, but not much of anything else. I get really sore and crampy when I walk more than 42 feet...but at least I know I'm not dilating (thanks to yet another cervical ultrasound yesterday, after which I cried like a blubbering baby to a total stranger).

I want so badly to push myself and do...well...ANYTHING, but I end up paying for it with pain, fatigue and (worst of all) fear that THIS TIME the contractions really are doing something. something we don't want them to do for another ten weeks or so.

inactivity does not suit me. I'm wearing it like a pair of loud plaid pants that show off my cellulite and love handles.

I've made it a point recently to NOT sound like I'm complaining or that I'm ungrateful.

whoopsies! maybe I should make it a point to be silent in order to achieve that end.

I've come to accept that this pregnancy is totally whooping my ass. this is ok. its a minor sacrifice to make to feel a lil booger squirming around in my belly. it'll seem even less of a sacrifice when I finally get to meet him...and figure out his name.

I hope he has hair.

I'm just a bit bitchy and whiney cause I'm bored and sore...and let's not forget massively hormonal.

oqui has made a (subconsious) habit of leaning way down and looking into my eyes when I talk to make sure I haven't been crying recently. it's funny when I haven't been...kind of invasive when I have been...and want to hide it.

I've been trying to hide it...alot. no sense in showing how overly emotional and unstable I am to the world...(blogging doesn't count. noone reads this shit, anyway)

when I have every faith that this is, indeed...a temporary condition.



in fact...I'm giving myself six weeks of recovery after the baby is born...and already planning my training regimen for January.

its gonna feel so. damn. good.