Knock it off. I know you're just trying to practice and all, but frankly the Braxton Hicks are wearing me out. If you're not serious, please just leave me alone. I'm tired. My back hurts. My joints hurt. My whole body hurts. I'm puffy and swollen and I drop everything I pick up. I can't type anymore. Keep missing the keys. I'm spending a good two hours awake each night. The time I spend asleep finds my hip bones eating through my flesh to meet the mattress. My thighs rub together when I waddle. None of my maternity clothes fit anymore. The pants roll down and the tops ride up. I lost my belly botton months ago and I fear I'm going to need reconstructive surgery if I ever want to see it again. Matilda is back to waking up closer to 6 than 7. The naturally clingly child ("Uppee uppee uppee uppee uppee uppee") has the needy cranked to 11 with a head cold.
I really don't need you coming on all strong with a rash of contractions or some decent cramping only to back off just when I think it might be time to use this. So thanks but no thanks. If you're just kidding around, go find someone else to tease.
38 weeks. Stick a fork in me.
Comments (2)
amen, sister.
Posted by michaela | February 3, 2007 3:47 PM
Posted on February 3, 2007 15:47
You should be the one leading this train, seeing as today is actually your due date. Oof, is all I know.
Posted by atomic | February 3, 2007 7:35 PM
Posted on February 3, 2007 19:35