What a weekend, am I right?
Let me start off with the heat, ohmigod the heat. I am so very grateful that this baby will be here in June (and not September, like my last go-round) because THE HEAT would surely be the death of me this summer if I had to endure it pregnant.
We weren't outside for more than an hour total yesterday, and I felt like my body was melting. Drained is not the word. Weak is not the word. Exhausted is not the word. I don't think they've yet created a word to explain just how tired I was yesterday. Justin kept reminding me, "you did all this with Sidney" - and I kept giving him the middle finger when he walked away.
I don't like the heat.
Other than that, really, the weekend was great - I love three day weekends, and I was especially grateful Justin got to have the entire weekend off, too! That hasn't happened in months, I don't think. He's been pulling lots of overtime (which is great for the bank account but bad on the whole spending-time-together thing) so I was really glad to have him home. He did manage to sneak in plenty of fishing - can't say I blame him, after all the work he's been doing. There's just no way I'm going with him, you know because of the heat and all.
And before you start saying "pfft, it's not even summer yet" and "you just wait" and "I was eleven months pregnant during the hottest summer on record ever, don't whine 'til you've lived through that" LET ME JUST SAY: shutup. I'm the one who's pregnant here. And I'm the one whose buttcrack is filled with sweat. I'll complain as much as I want, as loud as I want, no matter how hot you may or may not think it really is.
And if you don't like it, you can fully expect me to flip you off behind your back.
Let me start off with the heat, ohmigod the heat. I am so very grateful that this baby will be here in June (and not September, like my last go-round) because THE HEAT would surely be the death of me this summer if I had to endure it pregnant.
We weren't outside for more than an hour total yesterday, and I felt like my body was melting. Drained is not the word. Weak is not the word. Exhausted is not the word. I don't think they've yet created a word to explain just how tired I was yesterday. Justin kept reminding me, "you did all this with Sidney" - and I kept giving him the middle finger when he walked away.
I don't like the heat.
Other than that, really, the weekend was great - I love three day weekends, and I was especially grateful Justin got to have the entire weekend off, too! That hasn't happened in months, I don't think. He's been pulling lots of overtime (which is great for the bank account but bad on the whole spending-time-together thing) so I was really glad to have him home. He did manage to sneak in plenty of fishing - can't say I blame him, after all the work he's been doing. There's just no way I'm going with him, you know because of the heat and all.
And before you start saying "pfft, it's not even summer yet" and "you just wait" and "I was eleven months pregnant during the hottest summer on record ever, don't whine 'til you've lived through that" LET ME JUST SAY: shutup. I'm the one who's pregnant here. And I'm the one whose buttcrack is filled with sweat. I'll complain as much as I want, as loud as I want, no matter how hot you may or may not think it really is.
And if you don't like it, you can fully expect me to flip you off behind your back.
hahhaha love the buttcrack line. good luck - stay inside.
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