Too Tired to Think of a Title

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This 3rd trimester is kicking my trash. I am tired and cranky and have a list of things to do, some of which I would love to actually do, but the energy level and the ability to actually maneuver through the task is not what you would call graceful. I also learned something this last week or so, that in all my years of being pregnant (seriously, YEARS!!!!!) I had not yet experienced, and am a little embarrassed, to actually admit it.

I like it a lot when my house is clean. It feels good. The problem is the bending over– it means not breathing, and I am really attached to breathing– It also means I take full advantage of my older children to do all the bending and picking up of all the things (literally all the things we own because I have a Gwenado, and Twinados, that do not come with warnings or sirens before destruction hits).

This last Saturday I made all my children clean up our family room. I cleaned bathrooms and the hallway and the kitchen and the dining room and the front room and the patio and the garbage from the yard (because throwing popsicle wrappers away is a foreign concept) and I did a lot of bending and not breathing, (and a lot of bathroom breaks) but the house was looking great. I should also mention that we were having company over… After working so hard for so many hours and then to look at my family room which was still in a state of shambles, I lost it. I yelled at my children. I yelled using my whole body, and peed myself. Now mind you, I had literally just gone to the bathroom and emptied my bladder, or so I thought. So now I am mad at the mess in the one room, and mad that I have pee on me, and mad that I now have to change which is a workout in itself. I left to change and get cleaned up, all the while muttering things that should only ever be muttered.

I went to the bathroom again, came out, in fresh clean undies and leggings, and saw almost the exact same mess as before. I am not proud of it, but I yelled again and again peed on myself. Seriously. I. Can’t. Even.

Same scenario, I  am clean once again, used the bathroom yet again (nothing happened, so I feel fairly safe now) and my family room which I have been after them to clean up for 5 HOURS is still not even close and we have less than an hour to go. I cross my legs and clench everything I can and I yell at them again, so far so good. They are working faster, it is finally getting done, and so I leave to go take care of dinner, thinking they will buckle down and finish. Suffice it to say, my children were still children and got distracted by…everything. I yelled again, but forgot to cross my knees.

AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yup, more pee. I am so disgusted, but can’t help but laugh/cry because honestly, 3 pairs of undies and leggings in the space of about 30 minutes. I was feeling like a potty training toddler. I will chalk this up to instant Karma…

Stupid karma

I am also thinking that the market for disposable undies has missed a prime market in pregnant women.

32 weeks in, 8 more to go

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I Live in the glorious state of Texas and I am the Mother of 6. As such I enjoy reading, leisurely walks, quiet time, sleeping all night and sleeping in, naps, and watching a full episode of any show without having to pause. Which means I have another 18 years, at least, before any of these things happen. I am ok with that (mostly, I could really go for a nap).

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