We Made Her Bed, Now She Has to Lie In It

It’s my favorite time of day… Jewel’s bedtime. It’s been a long hard day of playing, reading, running, dancing, dressing up, un-dressing up, changing, pretending, and eating. I don’t really know if she’s worn out yet. Is she ever? One thing’s for sure, though. I am exhausted. I don’t think I’ve played this much since I was little. I used to bemoan the fact that I was already tired from work when we picked her up from school, but no more. It’s far more draining to play with the girl all day than it is to go to work and play with her for the few hours before bedtime.

So, then, what should I do with my free time this evening? Should I do schoolwork? Almost definitely. Should I continue the cleaning and organization streak we’ve been on today? Perhaps. I know my nearest and dearest would certainly enjoy that. Maybe I’ll empty the dishwasher. He really likes it when I empty the dishwasher. Or maybe I’ll just sit here on the couch and watch TV. Really, though, I should probably get some exerciszszzszzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…………………

Out of It

Well, it only took me six entries to get to this point, but I’m officially out of things to say. I know I’ll come up with other topics, but I’m at a complete loss at the moment. So… what should I write about if I have no topic? I’ll give it a try and see what I get.

For starters, I have food stuck in the permanent retainer behind my bottom teeth. I hate that thing. And my bottom teeth are a little crooked. So… why is it in my mouth? It’s obviously useless. But let’s move on from this topic. Too weird, and a bit TMI, I think. Not to mention completely pointless.

What else have I got? Well, there’s the six hour drive we made today. I have to say, I was surprised at how little I had to stop and pee (speaking of TMI). Pregnancy is brutal when it comes to traveling and peeing. The last time, when Jewel was on the way, I made my poor hubby stop about six or seven times in that six hour stretch. The six hour drive quickly (or not so quickly) turned into a seven-and-a-half hour drive instead. I still haven’t heard the end of that one. Even worse, I made my other half stop in a really seedy part of Houston. This stop was at the kind of gas station you only see in horror movies. It had reflective windows, and it was a little too dark in the building. There was a man muttering to himself outside the car, and he muttered to me too, but I couldn’t tell you what he said. I tried not to make eye contact.

And what did my dearest, defender-of-my-honor, husband do when we stopped there? He let his very pregnant, exceptionally rotund wife waddle past the delusional muttering man while he holed himself up in the car and locked the doors. Coward.

The point? I would say I’d try and hold it next time, but you ladies know how that goes in late pregnancy. I guess I should just brush up on my self-defense. Or maybe buy stock in Depends? I think next time I’ll just stay home.