My mom called me today just to tell me that she had seen the latest belly pics and that it looked as if I were about to pop.  I found this extremely amusing as I have had the same complaint for the past 2 months.

My firggin boobs hurt.  I wish I could just pump already, but apparently, nipple stimulation releases a hormone that can bring about labor.  Dare I risk it just yet?  Probably not.

Sick of the constant pregnancy bitching?  TOO BAD!  This is what my life has become as of late and I have nothing else to blog about unless you want me to get started on Sen. Craig and his bathroom exploits.

A relative of mine died last Friday.  She was a super nice lady although I never knew her very well.  Being super nice, she was an enigma in that family.  I didn’t find out about her death until Monday, when they buried her, and the only reason I found out was because my brother told me.  I shouldn’t be surprised that nobody thought to call me, I’ve always been treated as a second-rate family member by those people.  I honestly thought they’d at least notify me of deaths, though.  I’m so glad I can shield my son from these people, who have caused me nothing but pain my whole life.

I was looking at Jessie today and I was overwhelmed with pregnancy hormones and Somer-stoopid.  It really is a huge thing that I am having a baby with this guy.  I was so careful to make sure that I married and procreated with a guy I knew would be stable and kind to me and my children.  I did pretty well for myself I would say.  Couldn’t get any more stable than my Jessie-Poo.  And kindness?  This guy has ambitions for his FAMILY, not himself.  I am always impressed by that fact in him, and I love him dearly for it.   He was eating his dinner and staring off into space tonight and I thought to myself, “Dear God, let Lukas have his father’s eyes.”  That would make my life.

I need some junk food very badly.  I’ve been trying to watch what I eat in these last few weeks, but I think I may be depriving myself more than I should be, so this weekend I am going to the store and shopping like an 8 year-old whose parents are away for the weekend.  I’m talking chips, cookies, doughnuts, cheetos, and kool-aid.  If it’s bad for me, I want it and dammit I want it now!

Enlarged tummy, stretch marks, squished bladder, and itchy skin!  LET IT END SOON DEAR LORD!!  I don’t know how much more of this I can take!!  I’m on the verge of ripping the skin off my stomach just so it will stop itching for two seconds!  I spend half of my day urinating and not eating because I’m so full of baby, there’s no room for anything else, including my entire digestive system.  People keep asking me “Are you ready for the birth?”  ABSOLUTELY.  This being my first time at this and all, I really expected myself to have more misgivings about labor and delivery, but honestly at this point I am ready.  The pregnancy itself has been such a hellish experience, I can’t imagine a possibly 24 hour labor with a definite end in sight being any worse than 9 months of sickness, body morphing, pain in weird places, food aversion, and insomnia.  I just keep telling myself that I won’t be pregnant forever and soon I’ll have a screaming poop machine in place of all this discomfort.  I’m ready.  I just want my body back.

“But Somer,”  you may ask, “aren’t you excited about meeting your baby?  You seem so preoccupied with not being pregnant anymore, you seem to have lost sight of the little life you are bringing into the world.”  To this I would give you the following reply,

“Shut the hell up.”

Of course I’m preoccupied with not being pregnant anymore, but I am very excited to meet my child, and I’m very excited to finally be able to bring him home.  Every time I have a new outfit for him, I wash it, and as I am folding it and placing it in a drawer in his little dresser I smile because I know that soon I will be stuffing a bald pumpkin head in those clothes.  I’ve spent the past three months getting everything ready for him, giving him his own cabinet space in the kitchen, giving him his own bathroom complete with bath toy caddy in the shower, making his nursery just right so it is both pleasant and functional, and making sure that I am well-versed in basic child care so I won’t mess up too badly.  I’ve even diapered, dressed, and swaddled a stuffed monkey to make sure that I could at least manage the basics.  I just don’t write about this stuff very often because I know that people are more accustomed to my bitching and being a grump rather than seeing my wishy washy mommy-musings.  Bet some of you are surprised that I have an actual beating heart and living soul enough to even have mommy-musings, huh?  I bet a few of my family members out there have bets going on to see if this kid is born with cloven hooves and horns growing out of his head because, let’s face it, no mortal child could grow in my sulphuric, evil womb, so it has to be the devil’s child.  And I bet those same family members picture me trying to eat the little thing for nourishment as soon as it is born.  I have a great family.

ANYWAY, I am very excited to get this pregnancy over with and move on to the next phase of this whole thing.  I don’t regret a thing.  I just feel that I would have felt a huge emptiness in my life had I not experienced pregnancy and motherhood.  I promise I’ll try not to eat him, even if he does have little horns.

JESSIE:  “What’s the matter?”

ME: ………………….

JESSIE:  “Somer?  What’s wrong?”

ME:………………………………..

JESSIE:  “Will you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

ME:  “I think my water just broke.”

JESSIE:  *pupils dilate, all blood drains from face, and all breathing stops*

ME:  *manages a straight face for about 5 seconds before hysterical laughing ensues*

JESSIE:  *he called me every name in the book, but it was great*

This is for my stubborn idiot of a husband who just this weekend realized that the whole “bloated Somer” phase ended with the arrival of an actual human being, for REAL.  He tends to let reality take a backseat until the last minute.