So, pregnancy is as fun as ever. Woke up this morning with a little bit of extra time to snuggle with my handsome husband but, oh wait, no, I lost everything including my shoes instead. Being thankful for the little things, I was able to make it to the bathroom sink in time. But no matter, moving on. Except that moving on proved to be difficult this morning as the room, the hall and the stairwell all swirled around me in a twirling vortex of vertigo. I had to laugh. I didn't have time for this.
Captain blessed me by taking a work-from-home morning, having started the habit of bringing his work laptop home in the evenings. This was very helpful as he could carry Wee Bud up and down the stairs while I climbed up or down on my hands and knees like a three year old. Swaying unsteadily, we made it through the first few hours of today and I am starting to feel better. At least the floor isn't moving at the moment.
I am just not one of those women who enjoy being pregnant. Everyone talks about the glowing skin, the lush hair - I get the random upchucks, adolescent complexion and the ability to shed hair like a show dog. Whatever.
And in other news, I have a love-hate relationship with dishes. I love the satisfaction of an easy start-to-finish task such as emptying a sink full of dirty dishes and then wiping down the counters. Dirty. Clean. Start. Finish. I love it. What I don't love is how often I have the opportunity to enjoy this task. Where do all of these dishes come from??
It's a Wednesday morning. Captain is getting ready to head back to the office as it has been close to an hour since my last "whoooaaaa" and steadying wall lean. This Sprout in my tummy is happy and healthy and, from the sound of it, so is the darling girl upstairs who just woke up from her nap. I am blessed.
