ONE OF THOSE KIND OF DAYS. I MEAN WEEKS. OR MAYBE MONTHS.

This is me, right now. Well, not right this second, it was a few minutes ago, but what's the difference, right?

Anyway, this is me, not lookin' so hot, sitting at my computer, just finishing up surfing Facebook to see what my fellow Facebook friends are doing. Wondering if anyone else out there feels as crappy as I do. 'Cause you know you always feel better when there is someone else out there who can relate. But alas, there was no one to be found. I guess I am not too surprised as it would be difficult to find many people in my position - 9 months pregnant while having to take care of 4 rambunctious kids all under the age of 8.

I am tired. So tired you can see the dark circles around my eyes in the picture I have graced you with. So tired that any amount of sleep at this point is not helping me feel bright eyed and bushy tailed. Why so tired? Well, I have not slept all that great for the past week due to the little man that is cooking away in my belly. Due to the fact that he is so big he is kicking me in my ribs or pushing down on my bladder at all times. The pushing down on the bladder thing is a real bummer at night as it causes me to have to roll my large self out of bed to go to the bathroom. After relieving myself, I must then make my way back to bed and attempt to get back to sleep which took me forever to do in the first place. Unfortunately this happens about 3 times each night.

I ache everywhere. All my muscles feel sore, and this baby seems to find every single darn nerve to sit on that will cause shoot pains down my butt or the front of my legs. These shooting pains cause me to have to stop in my tracks and mumble a few curse words to myself until they subside. Not fun, not fun at all.

I feel winded all of the time. I walk up the stairs and it takes me 10 minutes of laying on the bed before I feel like I got my breath back. I walk down the stairs, same thing. I vacuum, same thing. I try and play with the kids outside, same thing. I grocery shop, clean the house, put the kids to bed, same thing. You get the idea, I am so large I can't seem to accomplish the simplest of tasks without feeling as if I ran a marathon. Boy would I hate to be obese. I have never been, but am assuming this is what it feels like.

So take the being tired, and aching everywhere all of the time and being winded after attempting to accomplish the simplest of tasks, and all of the other ever so pleasant ailments of being 9 months pregnant, and you get one cranky Momma.

And I hate being cranky. But I just can't help it.

The poor kids have seemed to become accustomed to my running around the house ranting about them not doing this or that, or about how the house is never clean, or how I am too damn tired to do anything anymore, and I how I feel like I have no help and I am going to lose my mind, pass out, or lie on the floor and just weep. Seriously, it gets that dramatic and is that bad sometimes.

Oh how I want this beautiful, sweet little boy of mine to evacuate my womb. Like now.


Whew, it sure does feel good getting a good session of wallowing in my own self-pity in.