Tiresome

I meant to write a post today. I wanted to not write about how much pain I am in and how tired I still am. How much of that can you take, right? I’m starting to wonder how much I can take all while James wishes I would just make an appointment with the chiropractor. That man, he puts up with so much moaning and groaning (and not the good kind) from me. He’s working on that whole sainthood thing with the miracle getting me to do something for myself.

I am 17 weeks pregnant, which means I am half way through this pregnancy. I don’t know if it’s because it’s my last or if I have been so busy with everyday life but this time around has gone so much faster than all of the others. I have another doctor’s appointment next week - normal prenatal and cervix check via ultrasound. It’s not normal though. My OB is out recovering from surgery and so we’ll see our beloved former family doctor. I am going to beg him to give me some prescription strength antacid since heartburn is a constant companion.

Damn Friskies commercial is on that has a cat that looks like Mulder. I miss that cat. I miss that cat, even though he was crazier than Britney Spears.

So, Disney has put out a 3-D concert movie of Hannah Montana. Emma wants to see this more than, well, more than anything. Thank GOD it isn’t playing any where near us. I guess there are some benefits to living in the middle of no where. Emma is heartbroken while James and I get to keep out sanity for one more day. I think she’s banking on it showing up on the Disney Channel in a couple of months, which it probably will. Disney is like that. Ooooh we’re going to put the Little Mermaid in a dark scary vault!! Buy the DVD now, suckas. And we buy them, because James has sucker tattooed on his forehead.

Every night, James puts Abby to bed. James got this job because he could put her in her crib quickly. Meanwhile, when I would try I couldn’t get her in there fast enough. Before I knew it she was climbing up me like one of those scary jumping spiders (jumping spiders are the only spiders I am afraid of). So, James puts her to bed every night. Once again, because James has SUCKER tattooed on his forehead he reads Abby several stories every night. Once those stories have been read the required number of times Abby must sleep with them.

Tonight it was 5 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed and some Blue’s Clues story that has the songs that play along with it when you push the buttons )we’ve had this book for 8 years and I’ve read it hundreds of times but have no clue what the title is). Abby has had these stories read to her so many times that she knows all of the words. Now bedtime stories consist of James starting the sentence and Abby finishing it. It’s incredibly adorable and makes my little cold heart melt a little.

My heart breaks in two when James informs her that there are no more stories to read and that it’s time for bed. As he closes the door Abby starts to scream at the top of her lungs:

DADDY!!! DON’T CLOSE THE DOOR!!
DADDY!!!!!!!! COME BAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!!
AGAIN, DADDY, AGAIN! READ TO ME AGAIN!

I just want to run in there and scoop her up reading to her until we both pass out. OK, I’d totally pass out first, but she usually follows my lead. That kid knows she has us wrapped around her little finger. If only I could get her potty trained.

So, this is the post for tonight. This is what happens when I leave it for the end of the night when I really ought to be in bed. Scatterbrained. I am scatterbrained a lot these days. Shiny things distract me from goals. I’m like a cat who hears the electric can opener.

Speaking of eating. I was told I need to eat more. I haven’t gained any weight yet (I am already very overweight) but my stomach is growing. If I was more secure I’d take pictures. I might take pictures anyway, but with that whole scatterbrained thing don’t get your hopes up.