He Took the Corner Brownie!

Something happens to me when I cross into the third trimester of pregnancy. Something evil takes hold of me, and the rest of you poor souls had better just look out. If you are the poor soul who is married to me, God be with you.

I haven't officially moved into the guest bedroom yet, but I feel that it may be coming soon. On Friday, Emma and I washed all of the bedding in there and re-made the bed with fresh, clean linens. This, in itself, was an intense undertaking given my size and the fact that I can no longer squeeze in between the bed and the wall. When the top corner fitted sheet popped off after all of my exhaustive efforts to get it on there, I calmly looked at Emma and said, "You need to get out because I am about to be very angry." Emma obediently scurried out of the room and an uncontrollable great barbaric yaup sprang forth from the pit of my being. I took a few deep breaths and managed not to throw or break anything.

I assume if you are reading this, you know that I am typically a perfectly calm and reasonable person, but these are not calm and reasonable times. The hormones have taken over, and I am dealing with a slew of unpleasant physical symptoms as well. Allow me to add that I still regard pregnancy as a miraculous and wonderful thing. I am grateful and ever so blessed to be carrying another baby and to be experiencing a healthy pregnancy, but a girl has a right to rant when things like hemorrhoids, stress incontinence, and pubic symphasis disorder begin to seriously disrupt the daily routine.

Yesterday I took Sophie to a birthday party at Jazzy Jungle, one of those completely horrid indoor, soft play places. The children have been on holiday from school for two weeks, so all of the other mums were eager to catch up. They obviously didn't get the memo that I have crossed over into the realm of pure evil. By the end of the seemingly interminable two hour event, I had been asked "So when are you due?" nearly 700 times. The birthday girl's grandmother actually had the audacity to say to me, "God! You've got BIG!" Seriously, is this ever an acceptable thing to say to a lady? The fact that I didn't choke her proves that I do still possess SOME self-control.

The good news is, I am now in the home stretch. Last week's scan at the hospital showed that everything continues look good with me despite my usual daily contractions. Emma and Sophie are going off to Sports Stars Day Camp for four days this week, which should give us all a bit of respite from each other and from the boredom of rainy days at home. And finally there appears to be a bit of sun peeking through the clouds this morning, so perhaps I will throw on that colorful skirt and enjoy while it lasts!

Happy hormones to you all!