Merry Christmas!

Tomorrow the craziness starts.

We've got a playdate to bake cookies, then I'm in charge of Christmas Eve dinner (small, but still big), there will be songs to sing, cartoons to watch, too much food to eat.

It will be insane.

But it will be fun.

Everyone have a Very Merry Christmas.

I'm Done... I think?

I love Christmas... I really do.

I love the music, the lights, the cookies (Oh! The Cookies!!), the presents, the tree, everything!

I go gaga over Christmas.

And being a girl, I go gaga over shopping.

So when I finish up all my Christmas shopping, I feel a bit sad. Like I'm not ready to be done. Like I still want to be out in the crowds, surrounded by crazed people trying to snatch up the last Mr. Potato Head.

My husband on the other hand would rather I pluck his nose hairs with rusty pliers than be forced to shop.

And of course, being me and being a girl who loves to shop, I keep checking the sales ads and the coupon blogs for great sales because "just one more gift wouldn't hurt the girl!"

Bad, I know. This will lead to spoiling but I have another baby on the way and this may be my last Christmas to really spoil her... right?

Or is that just an excuse?

Worth the Weight

The total weight gain of my first pregnancy is known by exactly three people... and one of them is me.

All you'll ever learn from me is that it was not good... at. all.

And it feels like this pregnancy is going to be a repeat of the first. While the first two trimesters were great with very little weight gain, my third trimester seems to be making up for lost pounds.

I know part of the reason is that sometimes I am hungry all the time. It's just hit me like a ton of bricks and all I want to do is eat.

Sometimes I'm strong enough to resist, others... not so much.

Sometimes it's sweets and others it's fruit... or lately, hot ham and cheese sammiches.

I think I should never be given leave to gain any weight, ever.

And I know that I'm pregnant, I'm growing life, yada yada yada... but I can't help but worry about it. I worry to the point where I dread going to the doctor's office and get so anxious about stepping on their damn scale.

Tell me I'm not the only one who struggles with this.

Excuse Me While I'm Needy

A while back I referred being pregnant like having PMS, just worse.

And I still firmly stand by that statement, especially the hormonal part that leaves you wondering if you'll ever be sane again.

Case in point: Last night I was needy... emotionally, physically, everything. I just needed something from my hubby and proceeded to pout when I didn't get what I wanted.

Of course, him being the sane part of this relationship asked me what I needed.

I told him I didn't know.

He said he couldn't help me if I couldn't help him.

And I wanted to cry.

Not because of him, but because of me and my inability to communicate what I needed or even get my brain to function properly so I could figure out what I needed.

It just happens when you're pregnant. You need something, anything, anyone to make you feel better about your ballooning body, swollen feet, huge nose, bad acne, greasy hair and incurable hunger.

But you can never really, truly put your finger on what it is.

So bless that beautiful man of mine, he gave me a chocolate bar with almonds, a hug and told me to go put my feet up and keep my trap shut.

It worked (for now).

I'm so lucky.

Shock

While out running errands earlier today, the hubby and I were talking about the baby and the great naming debate.

When it hit me that I'm 30 weeks along this Monday and that means I have 8 weeks left of my pregnany (and before you send me any email saying pregnancy is 40 weeks, my doctor is doing my c-section at 38 weeks).

EIGHT WEEKS!

Um, that's two months.

And that's coming up really, really quick.

It kinda sent me into a panic mode because I feel like I am not prepared.

With Roo, I spent the entire 39 weeks preparing. I had read all the books, the crib was set up, the cake from two baby showers was eaten, clothes were washed and I was ready.

Besides a few packs of diapers and a brand new stroller (thanks Mom!), I'm soooo not prepared.

The crib is in pieces (literally) in the hallway, the hand-me-down onesies from Roo are in storage (and in who knows what kind of condition), I haven't even made a list of what I need to do.

And just thinking about it makes me exhausted.

There's too much to do!

Think it's possible to hide under the covers and pray the baby fairy comes along and takes care of everything?

Family.

This week we've been in South Carolina enjoying some quality family time.

Playing in the leaves.

Hanging out with Grandma.

And eating... tons and tons of eating.

Dear Roo: I'm Sorry

This month's letter is a few days early, rather than like last month's letter which was a few months too late.

Earlier tonight as we played at Grandma and Grandpa's house, you crawled into my lap and asked to be held. The sad thing was, while I could hold you, I couldn't cuddle with you like we use to.

We couldn't get as close as we like all because I have this huge pregnant belly for us to contend with. And I got so sad about it because I love to cuddle with you, hold you close and feel your skin next to mine.

And I'm sorry about that.

I'm sorry that our cuddle time isn't what it use to be but I promise you that as soon as this baby pops out of me I will snatch you up in my arms and hold you so close you'll probably think I'm insane.

Insane, no, but crazy, yes... Crazy about my first born and the amazing ability she has to cuddle.

I love you,

Mommy