Dear life

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.

Me too.

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.