Being pregnant sucks.  I feel horrible and I have gotten to the point where horrible translates into if you make me move my big fat ass any more than I have to I will sever all apendages and hang you outside of my high rise office building by your hair.  Seriously.  Everything hurts.  I just got up to go to the bathroom and it felt as though I was walking on shards of glass tipped with hot burning oil.  Have you ever seen the Mummy Returns where those little pygmy creatures were shooting poisoned darts.  I feel like I have a pygmy taking aim at me at every waking moment.  I suppose you could say that I am exaggerating, but I am not.  I hurt.  I hurt to move and I hurt to think about moving. 

 

This, unfortunately, has turned me into the most un-fun person to be around.  I feel so sorry for my husband.  I really do, despite the times he can be a (seemingly) uncaring jerk... he really isn't.  I think I just pretend that I think he is sometimes.  Deep down he truly loves me and for that I am grateful.  However, there are times I just want to throttle him, for no good or apparent reason.  I guess because I am pregnant and miserable and he isn't. Take for instance last night.  I was beached on the couch unwilling to move.  I hurt and I was tired and it was nighttime which means all of these symptoms are incredibly worse.  Let me preface this by saying that he had gotten just as little sleep as I had the night before, he did get to sleep a few minutes later, but not much.  He worked all day long, like me, and picked up our daughter from school.  He then did yardwork for about 2 or 3 hours.  He was in the kitchen getting water and I asked him to brush Isabella's teeth.  This, of course, is a task in itself.  I am thinking he is in the kitchen, which is where her toothbrush is (don't ask), so why not just do it while you are in there and I won't have to worry about it since I seem to be the only one who will brush her teeth.  If I don't do it, she goes around with fuzz all over her teeth.  Anyway, he says "I'll do it later, I am tired too you know."   This just pissed me off.  I am sitting there, thinking what a prick, he has the audacity to tell me he is tired.  So, I did the obvious thing, I got up off my big, tired ass and brushed them myself with a small quip of "Now you don't have to bother."

 

This morning I got to thinking of what a bitch I had been.  As if I am the only person in the world who has the right to be tired, bitchy and in pain (except for the other pregnant women out there).  Living with me right now must be such a horrbile experience right now and I really kind of hate myself for it.  I am bitchy, cranky, tired, moody and just big.  I suck at everything right now.  I don't even cook unless it means I am making a quesadilla which is what I eat every single night of the week, unless I am too tired to spend the 10 minutes it takes to make a quesadilla in which case I eat a bowl of cereal.  And sex... forget it.  I hurt and I generally go to bed around 9, which is about 3 hours before my husband and even if we did attempt the sex thing I think it must be about like watching someone paint a wall.  It is boring as hell and takes much longer than you thought it would.  It just doesn't work out.  It is obvious that I am not even close to be in to it and I cannot pretend to be right now.  I feel bad about this, I really do!  But for some reason I cannot seem to muster enough energy to make a go at it. 

 

That is just depressing.  I am tired now and I feel bad.  Maybe tomorrow will be better.  Or maybe this pregnancy will just drag on forever.  What irritates me is everyone saying that October will be here in no time and I want to rip off their ears and make them eat them.  Yes, I know October will eventually be here.  Obviously time has not stopped just yet.  But it still feels like forever, especially when you feel like shit.  It's sort of like Christmas when you are a kid.  It seems like the year goes by and Christmas never comes and then when the season rolls around you think you are almost there.  Alas, it just means that you have to stare at the Christmas tree for another month while beautifuly ribboned packages stack up under it and you cannot touch them until Christmas morning which never seems to get there, but you know it will.  Yet, it doesn't take away the fact that I feel like crap, this kids kicks 24/7 and I need a nap after only being awake for about 2 hours.