changes

Changes are upon us. The seasons are changing, my waistline is changing, our house is changing, my age changed last Saturday. I am now a 26 year old on my last Spring Break without kiddos. I will never again leave for Spring Break knowing that I get a week off from kids. I will no longer be able to sleep in, although I'm not sure you can call it sleeping in when you're up at 8 am. I will no longer be able to enjoy the bliss that is not having anything planned or to plan for for an entire week. Yes, in 41 days mine and hubbies lives will forever be changed. I will never again be childless over the summer or breaks or long weekends.

I'm starting to get very panicky. I need to stop reading a certain book about expectations during the first year of Jameson's life. But I am fully prepared to deal with a snake bite if that situation ever arises. I"m a little iffy on the bath time situation. I need to stop watching TV shows about babies being born every minute--seriously it's not comforting to hear about babies being stuck. I don't want a baby stuck in me. Or pushing for hours and hours without an epidural or pushing for hours and hours to find out that you do in fact need a C-section. Sometimes being a nerd does nothing but stress me out. Sometimes too much information is not a good thing. Sometimes having access to a computer 24/7 is not a good thing. Poor hubs has banned me from reading THAT book after 7 pm.

I'll be honest this being pregnant business is work. I have it far better than some other preggos and it makes me feel guilty when I complain but I have not seen my feet from a standing position in about 3 months. I'm as big as a freaking house and have no idea how I'm supposed to continue to grow for another 6 weeks. I'm at the point where when I sit down I instantly feel like I'm crushing Jameson. I'm so hungry all the time but fill up so fast. I think I was pretty normal for the first two trimesters but I've officially bought a ticket to the "crazy hormonal pregnant lady" show. I feel like a big blob that is the farthest thing from cute, attractive or sexy (not that that adjective was thrown around a whole lot by myself before this event). I know, I know...in 41 days I'll get to meet the reason for this feeling of "what did I sign up for again"? But I find myself waffling back and forth about that too. I mean who is ever really ready to be a parent? Honestly. But it's too late to push stop and rewind and I wouldn't take it back even if I could. I might also have a slight case of being impatient...patience never was my strong suit, ironic as I make a living working with 27 six and seven year olds.

Nonetheless, changes are upon us and we are continuing on this path and right now that path includes washing his teeny tiny clothes.

Seriously, those are the tiniest socks I've ever seen.

Teeny tiny shoes

34 weeks and 1 day.