I'm pregnant, okay, and I'm tired. This should come as a surprise to no one. No one except Oscar, that is. So when I woke this morning to his sleepy baby "Ooh!" and his grubby little fingers poking at my boated pregnant belly, I would have been really annoyed if I weren't so tired that I could almost not even open my eyes.
When I finally made it out of bed after enduring a half an hour of pinching and maniacal laughter, I was treated to the sound of Oscar wailing as I did the unthinkable - I put him down in his crib so I could go to the bathroom and get dress and maybe even brush my teeth. I know, I'm a terrible and selfish parent.
Then, after I put him in his high chair and gave him some Cheerios so I could prepare his breakfast, he delighted me by tossing his Cheerios to the floor one by one, while whining in a most lovely fashion. You can imagine how fun breakfast was this morning.
After another hour of whining and intermittent playing, he's down for a nap, thank god, and I'm hoping I can catch a few winks before Danny arrives.
Speaking of my bloated, pregnant belly, woah, can I get a break here? My underwear no longer fit and I'm only 10 weeks pregnant - I should still have a waist. The Sprout is only two inches long - how on earth is is taking up so much room? And don't even try to tell me it might be the entire bag of Cool Ranch Doriotos I ate yesterday.