I’m 38 1/2 weeks pregnant, which would seem really really pregnant to some people, but I have always had my babies 4-5 days after my due date, so I’m merely really pregnant.
And yet, way too pregnant to do the following things:
I’m too pregnant to wear a bra for more than 3 hours. This will decrease by 1 hour every 5 days from here on out. That’s just math.
I’m too pregnant to give a shit about feeding my family a balanced meal. Today, my grocery cart was full of Uncrustables, pudding, breakfast bars, and a special kind of cookie dough that’s made for eating raw, and it’s a fucking injustice that it took me THIS LONG to discover that’s a thing that exists.
I’m too pregnant to put up with the pushy lady at Target who is always trying to get me to sign up for a Red Card line of credit. SHUT UP OMFG. And on this note, I’m entirely too pregnant to try to figure out if I’m to swipe or insert my debit card at checkouts. Why does giving someone my money take this much brain power and patience?
I’m too pregnant to give any shits about what our Christmas tree looks like. I’m too pregnant to make cookies. I’m too pregnant to give a fuck that our elf isn’t even coming this year. I’m too pregnant for elves. I’m too pregnant for Christmas, honestly.
I’m too pregnant to shop. Online. I literally can’t even sit at my computer long enough or look at my phone long enough to do any kind of thoughtful shopping. Everyone is getting whatever randomly pops up on the front page of Amazon.
I am too pregnant to EVEN with Amazon for sending that shit in boxes that don’t even try to hide what’s inside. THANKS FOR RUINING SANTA, AMAZON.
I’m too pregnant to care that the temps FINALLY dropped to below burning-in-hell and my children have nothing appropriate to wear.
I’m too pregnant to care that my 3 year old has watched every single episode of Jake and the Neverland Pirates on Netflix. Twice. In a week.
I’m too pregnant to stay awake longer than 5 hours at a time.
I’m too pregnant to care if you think it’s weird I’ve taken this many pictures of me in my PJs with my belly hanging out. It’s called documenting this special time, okay?