Tuesday, August 7, 2012


It's almost 9 p.m. and I am exhausted. Not only physically exhausted but mentally exhausted. Exhausted of my feet hurting. Exhausted of having to pee all the time. Exhausted of constantly having my brain go 90-to-nothing... especially around 4 a.m. in the morning. 

Last night, my sleep was terrible. I awoke for the umpteenth time to the feeling of my bladder feeling intensely full. I laid there for a moment trying to muster up the motivation to actually get out of bed and go to the bathroom and when I finally felt like I might tinkle myself, I stumbled out of bed, bumping my shin on just about every possible object in our bedroom at shin-busting height, and the entire time in those fifteen steps to the bathroom, I thought about about a hundred fragmented thoughts that I just didn't know what to do with...

"you should really clean this room tomorrow"

"you need to get in touch with Shadell about that infant carseat"

"how many rolls of toilet paper do we have left... you sure are using a lot"

"wow, my neck is sore"

"baby CPR... that is important... YouTube it"

"all of the towels are still in the washer... they've been in there since, like, three days ago-ish... they're probably all mildew-y smelling now... seriously, what are you going to do when you have kids"

"c'mon... you know you're not really going to clean this room tomorrow"

"you really need to find something to do with the guest bedroom furniture"

"that stuffed bellpepper recipe on Pinterest would be so good to cook for dinner tomorrow... Brandon would probably like something other than cocoa pebbles for dinner"

"you haven't read the bible in a long time"

"did you feed Lola today? Seriously... you're going to have to remember to feed your baby. It's super important that you remember that"

"have you gotten your voters registration yet?"

"you need to shave your legs... gorilla legs are so not in right now"

"you should learn to speak spanish" 

"and... why do you keep buying avocados... you know you're never going to make that guacamole"

"did you ever text Michelle and Sophie back... you suck at responding to text messages"

"seriously... what is going on with your thighs?"

"I could be a way better friend... I need to call Sloane"

"man... when is The Walking Dead coming back on?"

"my God... I have a mini-human in me. like, right. now." 

"I know I can do this, but can I do this?"

"luckily... Brandon will so be the stable one"

"mmmm.... olives and an icee sound so good right now"

"this bathroom has been cleaned, like, twice since it's been redone"

"you are going to LOVE this baby that's growing inside of you.... absolutely love him/her"

Seriously. All of that. 

And after unloading what seriously feels like only a mere teaspoon of tinkle, I stumble back to bed, get back in... only to realize that I am insanely uncomfortable and the pillows that I have completely surrounded myself  with have now shifted to sabotage me and feel like solid boulders. After nearly twenty minutes of readjusting and tossing too and fro, I realize that there is quite possibly no comfortable way to do this. I look over at Brandon and he is sleeping hardcore and I stare in complete envy. I'm happy for him... sleep while you can, my dear, sleep while you can. 

And I realize that while I may never sleep again, I truly am so very happy that this happening.