Since I'm sitting here all by myveryownself, also with one seriously-wanting-me-to-choke-it cat (more on choking cats later...if I can remember that long), and I'm the one who is pathologically or epidemically or academickly (no, that's really not it).... never mind.
I'm the one sitting here, blogging, in the middle of the stupid night because I am awake like a moron or a crazy person or a drunk or... umm... a pregnant woman.
M.E.H.
And really? I have been awake for HOURS.
OOOOOOOWWWW-EEEEEERRRRRSSSSS.
Yes, yes I have. Not tossing and turning, mind you, because the disc between my fourth and fifth cervical ...maybe it's my lumbars, I can't actually remember... decided to go visiting my lungs or something, and it is nearly impossible to roll over. I'm not even to the Beached Whale Stage of my pregnancy yet, and I can't sit up, roll over, put my socks on, or fetch. And I'm not begging...yet...but if there are still dirty dishes tomorrow at this time, I might start begging.
I needed help putting on my snow boots yesterday so I could gimp down the street to the in-laws' house for New Years' Day brunch. Sans socks, for the record. Also? I had to STOP EATING DINNER at my mother's house, because I couldn't sit up any more.
And let me tell you, people, that it is a real son of a bitch to be six months pregnant, be starving because you're, well, six months pregnant, and NOT BE ABLE TO FINISH YOUR PASTA.
It was good pasta, too. I put lots and lots of sauce on it, and there were meatballs and little pieces of pork. And I made bread (I know this doesn't probably make a ton of sense, but the Mister did the kneading, and aside from the kneading, making bread is about waiting and not doing anything)...and the bread was amazing, and the bread dipped in the sauce was amazing, and the inability to sit up was? Not. Amazing. At. All.
I love pasta. Actually, I love the sauce. The pasta is just a vehicle for the sauce.
We came home from my mom's house, and put the short people to bed (much better luck than last night, thankyouverymuch), and I was cuddling with my warm and cozy corn bag*, which I have named Colin Firth**, in my warm and comfy bed.
And I knitted for a little bit, and I took my happy pill, because the whole if-Mama's-not-happy-ain't-nobody-happy-thing? Let's just say it's true. More true to say If Mama's Got Anxiety Real Bad She's Impossible To Live With.
And then I went to sleep. Because I am exhausted.
And then I woke up.
And now it's too late to go to the bar.
The End.***
*A corn bag is a fabric pouch filled with dried corn. Not popcorn. That would be scratchy, not cozy. It's like a bean bag that you heat in the microwave, and it puts nice, warm, damp heat on your hurt place. Or wherever you're needing a little warm. You should get one. They're amazing.
**Colin Firth would be nice to cuddle with, possibly. It's just a guess.
***Not really, truly, the end. Because if it were the end of Awake Time, I'd be asleep. And not so angry at the cats. Even though it's not their stupid faults I'm awake. They're just annoying.
I'm the one sitting here, blogging, in the middle of the stupid night because I am awake like a moron or a crazy person or a drunk or... umm... a pregnant woman.
M.E.H.
And really? I have been awake for HOURS.
OOOOOOOWWWW-EEEEEERRRRRSSSSS.
Yes, yes I have. Not tossing and turning, mind you, because the disc between my fourth and fifth cervical ...maybe it's my lumbars, I can't actually remember... decided to go visiting my lungs or something, and it is nearly impossible to roll over. I'm not even to the Beached Whale Stage of my pregnancy yet, and I can't sit up, roll over, put my socks on, or fetch. And I'm not begging...yet...but if there are still dirty dishes tomorrow at this time, I might start begging.
I needed help putting on my snow boots yesterday so I could gimp down the street to the in-laws' house for New Years' Day brunch. Sans socks, for the record. Also? I had to STOP EATING DINNER at my mother's house, because I couldn't sit up any more.
And let me tell you, people, that it is a real son of a bitch to be six months pregnant, be starving because you're, well, six months pregnant, and NOT BE ABLE TO FINISH YOUR PASTA.
It was good pasta, too. I put lots and lots of sauce on it, and there were meatballs and little pieces of pork. And I made bread (I know this doesn't probably make a ton of sense, but the Mister did the kneading, and aside from the kneading, making bread is about waiting and not doing anything)...and the bread was amazing, and the bread dipped in the sauce was amazing, and the inability to sit up was? Not. Amazing. At. All.
I love pasta. Actually, I love the sauce. The pasta is just a vehicle for the sauce.
We came home from my mom's house, and put the short people to bed (much better luck than last night, thankyouverymuch), and I was cuddling with my warm and cozy corn bag*, which I have named Colin Firth**, in my warm and comfy bed.
And I knitted for a little bit, and I took my happy pill, because the whole if-Mama's-not-happy-ain't-nobody-happy-thing? Let's just say it's true. More true to say If Mama's Got Anxiety Real Bad She's Impossible To Live With.
And then I went to sleep. Because I am exhausted.
And then I woke up.
And now it's too late to go to the bar.
The End.***
*A corn bag is a fabric pouch filled with dried corn. Not popcorn. That would be scratchy, not cozy. It's like a bean bag that you heat in the microwave, and it puts nice, warm, damp heat on your hurt place. Or wherever you're needing a little warm. You should get one. They're amazing.
**Colin Firth would be nice to cuddle with, possibly. It's just a guess.
***Not really, truly, the end. Because if it were the end of Awake Time, I'd be asleep. And not so angry at the cats. Even though it's not their stupid faults I'm awake. They're just annoying.
I will tell you about choking cats tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteI can tell you about choking husbands who let crying cats into the house at 5 a.m. this morning while I am just getting a crabby baby back to sleep... Mama Cat (who came free with our house) has a really annoying habit of walking around my house crying everytime she is let in. Waking up sleeping babies is her specialty. OR waking up sleeping dogs, who then bark their brains out and chase her around said house... thus waking up sleeping babies.
ReplyDeleteThis is the reason that tramp is BARN cat!!!
mmmmmmm paaaaaaastaaaaaaa
ReplyDeleteMy lovely wife? Couldn't stomach any sort of pasta during her pregnancies.
ReplyDeletePoor thing . . .
i can't even read this post ... because during my last pregnancy i lost the ability to be able to eat any pasta looking thing with tomato based sauce on it, without hurling.
ReplyDeleteso there. i just skipped right to the comments.
poor mama. you need more corn bags. ;)
ReplyDeletea. i would love to cuddle with a corn bag named colin firth or colin firth or a corn bag. they are all heavenly (i suppose) when achey.
ReplyDeleteb. pasta is yumm-o, i'm sorry you're being prevented from eating it--maeve wouldn't let me eat anything for the first 6 months without ahem...losing it...it wasn't pretty to be hungry and unable to eat--i'm so sorry!!
c. i can't wait to hear about choking cats--especially if it's about literally choking a cat...but if it's about a cat choking--then not as much, but still some, of course =)
Funny! Just last night I had a dream where you propped up (Egyptian Queen style) with pillows being fed pasta and bread dipped in sauce. Too bad it was my dream and not your reality.
ReplyDeletewould it be safe to say that sweets will be the last of the short people for the sake of you achin back? I'm so sorry but I did find that PreNatal Cradle its at my moms house. Call her right this second and go get that thing, I think I could help some!
ReplyDeleteI wish I was there to do you dishes for you. Hang in there!
Must have been something in the air. I woke up about seventy-kazillion times last night...and I'm not even pregnant.
ReplyDeletehow come I never thought of blogging all those times I woke up in the middle of the night and lie awake twiddling my thumbs?! Gosh Pamela, where have you been all my life?!
ReplyDeleteP.S. Happy New Year!
Mamma,
ReplyDeleteYou got to go to the physical therapist. They'll fix you up right.
=)
So I read your post before I went to bed last night..or shall I say ATTEMPTED to fall asleep at a reasonable hour. I thought to myself while reading it, "I am so glad that I haven't hit the no sleeping phase of pregnancy yet". Well GUESS WHAT! Last night was horrible. Not only could I NOT fall asleep, I was awaken several times by a newly kicking baby sitting on my bladder. SO I just wanted to say thanks for forewarning me that this phase of pregnancy was approaching!
ReplyDelete