Wait, week 36 ALREADY?! Wasn't it just week 35, like, yesterday? (Actually, yes.)
Home stretch, kids! Let me tell ya, this boy wants out. Frankly I'd be perfectly happy to let him to stay in until the stroke of week 40. I'm finding it difficult to get into the swing of this whole "relaxing" thing.
- Lugged a surprisingly large baby tub to UPS because Amazon wrecked it during shipping
- Hit the bank and the drugstore
- Bought myself a nursing bra
- Swept and Swiffered the apartment
- Shuffled the 30 minute walk to the chiropractor
- Braved the Monday afternoon crowds at Trader Joe's (FYI: according to the preposterously attractive Checkout Slacker, Mondays are even busier than weekends. Who knew?)
- Had maintenance re-caulk the sink and tub
- Hit the gym for the first time in over four months
- Did five loads of laundry
- Started an article for Dramatics Magazine
- Made beef stew from scratch
Hmmm... Overcompensate for feelings of inadequacy much?
So week 35 was pretty much like week 34, only with more constipation. (And moodiness! Don't forget moodiness!) Still waiting for my boobs to come in. (I was hoping for Mammary Mountain but I'm more of a ski slope.) Still eating everything in sight. Still unable to sleep. But I am farting a whole lot so that's... something.
I'm also trying to convince my husband that Beowulf will not be the Best. Movie. Ever. (Angelina Jolie naked! And ANIMATED!) I suspect this is a battle I will not win.