Major Smiles

So towards the end of my pregnancy I wasn't doing much. I was so tired and so big (like the size of a whale) that all I wanted to do was sit in my house with the air conditioner on (yes, even though it was November). Yes, I was THAT fat and THAT hot. I'd be like, "I'm so sorry so and so... I can't make it today, I'm just SO tired!"


I want to sock my formerly pregnant self in the face now. Hard. I'd smack that girl so hard if I could.  These days I look at Chance and say, "WHAT DID WE DO WITH ALL OUR TIME BEFORE WE HAD THIS KID?"

I think I thought when the pregnancy was over, the fatigue would be over, the backache would be over and the sleep would be sound. WOW. Did I NOT understand that a HUMAN was going to come out of me and demand my every second? I guess I really didn't think about what happens at the end of pregnancy... you get a baby! And then the real fatigue, the real aches and the real sleepless nights begin.

Here's a run down of my last 6 weeks...

Wake up- but wake up from not sleeping. This just simply means actually getting out of bed, because let's be serious- I was awake all night.

Feed him. From my boob... that's still so weird.

He's happy. Put him in the bouncer so I can make an egg and toast... he starts to fuss. Pick him up, walk around until he's happy.. put him back in the bouncer. Finish cooking the already burnt egg. Grab a plate and sit down. I reach for the fork to eat... Major cries. He's bored. He's sick of looking at those stupid toys hanging from his bouncer. He's like, "What the heck, mom?! Just because I'm a baby doesn't mean I want to look at this stupid thing for longer than 3 minutes... don't you see it's a dumb turtle? What else is there to figure out?"

I take him out noting his intelligence. It's ok, Major. You are smart and stuff is boring. I feel bad for you so let's hang out. I try to juggle him while I attempt to eat my egg. It doesn't happen. He gets angry I'm not walking around. So I get up and walk... it finally calms him down.

He cries two minutes later and my egg is cold. He's hungry. I'm hungry.

Fine! I say to him... you can eat first! I lift my shirt and he gasps and gasps until he's getting that sweet boob juice.

I finally eat my egg, while ironically feeding my baby at the same time.

My day continues as chaotic as it started. I rush to the bathroom, fold the laundry, pick up the house in a hurried fashion all as Major sleeps. I'm racing the clock and counting the baby's "ZZZ" just to be sure of how much time I have left. I usually get to the bathroom and half way through the laundry before he wakes up again.

I look at the clock and it's already 5pm. I've accomplished nothing today. Nothing. But he's smiling now and today seems to be juuuuust fine.