When I was pregnant with Brady, everyone remarked how calm and happy I was. I was dubbed the Zen Prego at work. My husband made the comment that he was surprised at how nice I was even though I was large and uncomfortable. Well, that has all changed...
I am on the war path, people! It feels like the worst PMS multiplied by one million. Maybe it's because work is so crazy and there have been so many changes and transitions that my head is spinning. More than likely, though, it has something to do with the awesome things people in my own family have said to me lately:
1. Are you really happy that you're pregnant again?
2. Whoa! You got really big really fast! This person then asked my mom how much weight SHE gained when pregnant because clearly I'm entirely obese.
3. I just can't believe you're doing this to Brady; he's the baby.
In addition to that, Zachary, whom I love more than life itself, has put himself at the top of My List. The other day he freaked out when he walked into the bedroom and I was in there with "no ventilation" and a ton of plastic bags that I was organizing. He claims the "fumes from the plastic" were toxic. This is the same man who has been painting our master bath and just tonight, ran the automatic oven cleaner and literally smoked me out of the downstairs. Talk about fumes! I came upstairs to get a bath only to find his painting supplies in it, including the actual paint, splattered all over the tub. Might I remind you that it was also Zach who spilled gasoline all over the car a few weeks before Brady was born and everything was covered in the stench, including the car seat?! Needless to say, today is not ending well.
On top of it all, I'm ashamed to admit that I think I'm really over being pregnant this time. I want to be a happy prego, I really do, it's just so hard running after Brady (who, by the way, turns into Satan every Friday now...), putting on shoes (the slip-on ones I had been wearing BROKE!), and doing every day things. I literally don't fit into my maternity jeans any more and I am beyond uncomfortable. I want to wear a toga, but apparently that's not socially acceptable. Whatever. I'll move to Greece.
So, that's me in a nutshell. I don't even have new pictures to post for you. There, now you can feel as irritated as I do...
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