I am ready for this to be over.

I am tired of not fitting into my clothes. I know, I know, boo hoo for me, but really. All my pantns ride down. All my shirts ride up. No matter what I put on in the morning, my stretch marks are exposed by 10am, like it or not. And let me tell you something. IT IS COLD!
Also, my pants cling to my body so that when I get undressed I can see the red impressions of the material weave... all over.

I am tired of acid reflux. And yeah, OK, maybe I could cut out the chocolate, the cookies, the coffee, the soda... but what about WATER? Should WATER give me reflux? Well, it does. I spend half the night chewing tums.

I am tired of not being able to pick things up when I drop them. Like, oh, forks. Or sip cups. Or the billions of toys and books that Nick insists on spreading around the house. I don't know why - I think he finds it festive. All I know is that I dislike looking under all the furniture for that lost sip cup of milk I KNOW he had this morning but somehow went missing and what if we can't find it in a few days it will turn to HARD CHEESE!

I am also tired of people asking me when I am due. "When are you due?" The supermarket lady, the people on line at the mall, the icky guy at the pet shop... I guess I just hate telling them that I HAVE A MONTH TO GO! So leave me alone, people!
Also, YES, I KNOW I will be very busy with a toddler and a newborn. Please don't keep reminding me, because the one thing I'm looking forward to right now is actually getting this thing out of me so that I can get part of my body back and won't have to pee every 20 minutes. Telling me the "fun" is yet to come will seriously make me consider heading for the nearest cliff to throw myself over.

Pant, pant, pant, pant...
OK. I think the ranting and raving is pretty much over.
For now.
Just know that I am really looking forward to going into labor. Crazy? Probably. But true.