the miracle of life...sucks.

yeah, yeah...pregnancy. blessing. blah, blah...miracle of life. woodie hoo hoo...power of a woman.

I hear ya...and to that I have only to say:

THAT'S BOOLSHIT!

I don't care how much a woman prays, hopes, wishes and dreams for a child...if that heffa has the nerve to so much as utter anything remotely similar to "I love being pregnant" ...

(which a largely pregnant woman said to me at the playground the other day, and GOD HELP ME...I couldn't keep myself from throwing a punch. thankfully...my heart wasn't in it and I missed her chin by three inches or so. the standers-by thought I was joking and laughed accordingly. grood. didn't really wanna be the ghetto chic scrapping on the tot lot...but, I would've been had that shot connected.)

there are only two possibilities:

1. she's lying through her fat pregnant teeth

or

2. her experience of pregnany is NOTHING like mine.

I love my babies. I *heart* being a mommy...and I whole-heartedly, 100 hunnred percent HATE being pregnant.

particularly largely pregnant, immobile, sweaty, pukey, pee-y, heartburny, hemorhoidy, fat arm-y pregnant...with work to do.

the physical limitations of pregnancy (depsite the whole miracle of life bit...) are basically...

annoying.

I like to bend. I like to stretch. I like to climb, run, ride, drink the occassional naked juice (sake for the rest of you...or at least those of you who weren't privy to the nekkie texts), soft cheeses and high mother-fucking-fructose corn syrup.

I also like to be able to see the nonny...you know, just in case.

this particular complaining jag stems from two things (actually...I had a really good productive day, by the entire time I was out raking leaves, trimming beds, etc...I could think only one thing "yo! I wanna be able to bend, bitches!" thusly, this blog was formed).

the first: we just bought a house and have lots of work to be done. heavy lifting, chemically laden work and I'm not a big fan of having baby duty (born and unborn) while oqui gets to dig shirtless in the yard.

ok, I'm fine with him digging shirtless in the yard, but I'd like to be doing some digging, as well.

and two...I'm big. very big. bigger than I was with either of the others big...and I've still got two months to go.

neither oqui or I can imagine my frame getting any larger. yet,

it shall.

I'm scurred.

oh, and I feel like my insides are leaking out...through my belly button. it's actually painful to the touch...and I have a toddler who insists on touching it 43 million times a day.

BELLY! BELLY! aye aye, belly! BELLY!

he takes great pleasure in sticking as many fingers as he can in what used to be my belly button (my belly button, proper, has now moved three inches north and two inches...OUT).

and heaven forbid I sneeze.

oh god.

when am I due, again?





wait. that's a stupid question.

nobody knows.


*sigh*