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If One More Person Tells Me How Tired I'm Going to Be, I Will Stab Them with a Plastic Toddler Fork

I have two months left to go with this pregnancy. It's even more frightening when I convert it to weeks. Eight! Half of me is, "OMG, EIGHT MORE WEEKS. AM GOING TO DIE," and the other half is all, "Pregnant? When did that happen? Seriously? Another baby?"

I made oatmeal raisin cookies today and ate about twelve of them for lunch, because you are totally allowed to do that if you're pregnant. When Jack went down for his naps I opted to sleep too, instead of unloading the dishwasher and folding the laundry. My husband is working late tonight so dinner was a frozen pizza and more oatmeal cookies. I spent the entire day in a messy ponytail, a maternity tank top I've worn all week plus the shorts I slept in. I'm sure I dazzled the neighbors the one time I ventured outside, to water the plants and get the mail. I am one hot pregnant lady, that's for sure.

I've also entered the dreaded Cannot Find A Comfortable Sleeping Position To Save My Life stage. More than once today I've soothed myself by thinking, "Maybe the baby will come early!"


Also, the part of me that is still getting used to this pregnant thing? NOT AMUSED. See, there are a whole lot of things I am not prepared for. This baby has nowhere to sleep, for one thing, even though I've been nagging reminding my husband for weeks that we need to buy a portable crib. Her car seat is in storage in my in-laws' garage. She has no bedding, hardly any clothes, and no name. The one thing she can look forward to is a rotten time breastfeeding as her mother has completely blocked out all breastfeeding memories and can't even rely on the comfort of experience.

Then there's the one thing people can't stop saying, the one thing that equally freaks out both sides of my pregnant brain: "Two babies! Twice the work!"


Can I be more tired than I am right now? After not sleeping half the night and hauling two dozen grocery bags into the house and chasing my toddler away from the stairs and the oven and the cabinet full of Mommy's Breakable Things? And can anything make me feel more unprepared? Because, to be honest, I feel that my one kid is quite enough work for me.

Every once in a while I hear something helpful. "Oh," my mom said the other day, "you can give two kids a bath in the same time it takes to do one!" A neighbor lady suggested I buy Jack a baby doll with a bottle, so he has something important to do when I'm feeding his sister. And a friend of mine who just had her second baby says it's not half as world-turning-upside-down as having the first one. Of course, she's already lost the baby weight so I can't take her seriously.

I need some Two Babies Positive Energy, Internet! I know it's going to be hard. I know it's going to be work. I know I'll never sleep again, blah blah blah. Now tell me the GOOD parts! The fun parts! Because, unless I'm mistaken, some people have third and fourth babies and they can't ALL be crazy.


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