(Am feeling a little snarky this morning, so put on your snarky hat before reading!)
This is a conversation Stéph and I had last week:
Me: Why the heck am I so exhausted?
Him: You're eight months pregnant GEE I HAVE NO IDEA.
The thing is, if I say to anyone else that I'm the least bit sleepy I get "Well you'd better rest now because when French Fry gets here you won't sleep FOR THE NEXT TWENTY YEARS." Really? 'Cause I though having a baby was all rainbows and lollipops.
The thing I find so ironic is that now, the time you're supposed to be resting, is also the time when you have to get everything ready for baby's arrival. Around here, we are really, really close. FF's room is no longer a repository for "everything else" and just needs a thorough cleaning. Some time in the next couple of weeks I'll make an outlet shopping run for a few pieces of baby clothes we're missing and some bedding for the crib. I've already started packing my suitcase (because seriously? here you have to bring everything but the kitchen sink with you) and washing baby clothes.
Pretty soon, I'll be able to relax. At least that's what I'm telling myself. Ha!
(Confidential to my well-meaning friends that have actually told me to "rest now because you won't when the baby comes" - Please never say this to a pregnant woman ever again, especially if she's over 30. We've watched you go through this, WE KNOW. Love you, mean it!)