I've officially reached it...
The point of pregnancy when
I am holding on for dear life.
I'm telling the little guy to not move,
and the girls to NOT touch my belly.
It all hurts too much.
I made Scott choose the other day,
Do you want groceries today?
or do you want clean bathrooms?
He chose groceries.
All we had was peanut butter.
Mostly, I'm tired of listening to myself complain.
Half of the world has been 9 months pregnant before.
I'm officially going to stop until the baby is born.
Then I might complain about lack of sleep.
But I'll try not to.
And don't say anything mean,
Even if it's not mean, and just stating facts,
like, "you look like you can't get any bigger"
or "you still have 3+ weeks left"
I might cry.
Or say something mean back.
You never can tell.