Boom, c’est moi!

Hat: Dizzie’s in SLO. Shirt: Target Maternity. Shorts: Lilytoad. Shoes: Nordstrom Rack (Born -$30!).

Check out Mad in the window. So freaking adorable.

  Shirt: Old Navy Maternity. Skirt: Target Maternity.

Shirt and Pants: Old Navy Maternity. Bag: Fossil. Sandals: Pink Studio.

Not much to say: 34 weeks and my selection of clothes is growing smaller.

I recently watched Mad Men S4 over a span of two days.

So good, although this was me every episode: “What are you doing, Don? Again?! Don’t sleep with her, for the love of GOD. STOP!” Such a man-whore.

Also? I LOVE YOU, MISS. BLAKENSHIP. Easily the best thing about Season Four. DONE. NAILED IT.

Meanwhile January Jones continues to befuddle me with her presence on this show. She is the weak link.

Looking forward to The Good Wife S2 coming out on DVD next month so that I can watch it as well.

What else? Oh, I read The Help. I’ll go into more detail later but for now: Not for me. It was well-written and definitely interesting (as evidenced by the fact that I tore through it in a day and a half), but it was incredibly self-congratulatory and left a bad taste in my mouth. And after reading the book’s afterward I also felt the need to kick the author in the teeth.

So.

Restless

Hey look, it’s me on a bench.

33 weeks.

Lately I lie awake at night trying to get comfortable but failing, so I end up spending my time worrying about things like falling off of a cliff, or simply ruminating about how much longer I can lay there without getting up to pee. I hear noises outside and wonder if someone’s trying to break in. I go pee, so that I can pass through the boys’ bedroom and check on them. Big surprise – they’ve both managed to flop out of their beds. Lifting them up (especially Z) is getting harder. Last night I could only get Z halfway into his bed before pausing for a breath and gearing up for the last heave ho. He grunted, but stayed asleep as I finished arranging his limbs and blanket even though I knew he wouldn’t stay that way for long.

Man. I’m exhausted, and I’m SO ready to have my body back. I can’t wait to get these maternity clothes OUT OF MY SIGHT. The only shoes that really feel comfortable now are flip-flops (shudder) and my wedding ring is starting to cut off all circulation to my ring finger.  My moods are a joy to behold, I get irrationally angry at the littlest things. And then the baby startles me out of my funk, flipping and tickling me from the inside. I do know that this, Andy and I creating a life, is really is such a beautiful, miraculous thing.

But I can’t help feeling a little hulk-smashy.

I feel like I should be DOING something. I went through a big cleaning spree, rearranging the contents in our dresser drawers, wiping down cabinet doors and picking tiny pieces of lint off of the floor that the vacuum missed. But nothing stays clean. NOTHING. I’ve also been going through my books and purging a lot, getting rid of the ones that I keep around to look intelligent and have never been able to finish (or start), or ones that I just plain don’t like but had the shelf room for. Getting rid of things feels SO GOOD, it could easily become an addiction. Also – <a title="paperback swap" href="Swap Books for Free – PaperBackSwap.com“>Paperback swap is awesome.

P.S. I’ve also been watching The Good Wife, which is also SO GOOD.