Second Time Around

It is well past my bedtime.

Andy has been studiously working on his homework and I've been starting the cleaning process for hosting a baby shower on Saturday.

I also have been painting three canvases.

All day I have been composing a blog-story to tell you, but now it is too late. It is time for me to go to bed. Really. It was time for me to go to bed an hour ago.

But I want to tell you what I was going to tell you about.

Misery loves company, and I love your company.

Here's the thing.

I'm really tired.

Being pregnant is much harder than I remember. My head spins when I stand up... EVERY TIME! Once the spinning stops, I feel woozy if I stand too long. Even before I discovered the good news, I found myself sitting through worship on Sundays and wondering why. I feel like I am putting food into my mouth ALL THE TIME because if I get hungry I can literally feel my face turn green. When it isn't green, my face is white. Like pale, pale white. With big grey smudges under my eyes all the time. I feel anything but fancy.

All of my clothes feel uncomfortable. I don't like looking at myself in the mirror.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

From feeling like a hard-body stud training for a triathlon to a immobilized lump, oh friends. It is an awful fall.

I'm snappy, short tempered, foggy headed, defensive all while trying to pretend that I'm not and that life is just going on as normal. Oh how I wish someone else could be in my body and tell me that all these things are really just part of growing a baby, not a mental break down on my part.

They say each pregnancy is different. I guess it must be true. I don't remember anything like this last time (Andy might!). But I suppose last time I wasn't chasing a toddler (or two depending on the day, three on Tuesday!). Last time I daily encountered people reminding me that I was excited and people being thrilled for me. This time I daily encounter Jack, who could care less about what is happening as long as I twirl him around, read him stories and do exactly as he says.

Which brings me to... Jack. Ladies, that boy... well, he is a boy. All boy. He has discovered his physical abilities, which include: hitting, pinching, throwing himself on the floor in anger, throwing things into the toilet, climbing onto the dining room table, throwing anything he can lift, and pushing.

Let's not hide all the good under the troublesome. He can also now hold up his pointer finger and grin wildly when I say, "Jack, how old are you?" He dances often and still enjoys a good cuddle. He pats my face when we sing "patty cake" and he has started making weird animal noises when ever he sees certain creatures. He offers kisses freely and makes sure to give out "knuckles" after every high-five. And he claps for himself whenever he feels he's done something wonderful.

Well now I've done it. I meant to just give you a teaser, but now I've blurted it all out there. I'm sure I have more to tell you about Jack and his amazing tricks... and his amazing tantrums, but those stories will have to wait. I will try and get you some new pictures to accompany the tales.

They might have to wait

until I finish his

haircut.

I started it a few days ago

but haven't caught him

in a motionless minute

since then.

I don't think it looks

half-cut to anyone else

but it is.

And now that you know about it

I really must finish it

before I give you pictures.

Good night to all (oh my! I suddenly am dreaming of fall and Christmas seasons!) and sweet dreams to you!