S.O.S.

There were days that my "Baby Livington is on the way!" Lilypie ticker would make my heart race. It didn't seem possible that our baby was actually due as soon as it kept telling me it was. Now I want to yell at it - it seems like it's not counting down anymore. In fact I could have sworn the other day it said I had 22 days left to go, and when I just checked it this morning it says 24 days left! Although my guess is that I won't make it to my due date anyways (Robbie and Ellie were both 10 days early), that ticker is getting inside my head.

If it sounds like I'm starting to lose it, or on the verge of panic, or getting stir crazy, it's because I am. I don't usually blog at 4:30am... but what else is there to do when everything hurts and sleep won't come because you've run out of positions that are comfortable, even with 5 pillows?! Waking only every 3 hours to nurse a newborn sounds fantastic right now. That's bad, right? Also, I am daydreaming about my epidural. And of laying in a hospital bed for 2(ish) days.

Yesterday my pregnancy induced clumsiness hit an all time high when I knocked over Ellie's sippy cup of milk on the counter after filling it to the top but before I could get the lid on. I wish I knew how, but milk splattered all over half of the kitchen, without exaggeration. The front of all the cupboards on one wall were dripping with milk, including the upper doors. The only thing more comical than the mess was what I must have looked like as I tried to clean it up.

Good times. My goal every morning has become 'get through the day' with minimal injuries and as much consistent discipline as I can manage for the kids, while trying to keep these days fun for them. Although my track record in the last two days isn't good, since Robbie fell out of the trunk after an impromptu poopy diaper change in a parking lot and although it was a slow fall and pretty harmless, he managed to nick the side of his forehead on the shopping cart on his way down and it bled, causing him to ask why 'red juice' was coming out of his face! And yesterday I resorted to the awful parenting technique of verbally threatening discipline for disobedience, but rarely following through with it. The simple fact is that my 3 year old can move faster than I am able to right now. That will keep things interesting from here on out!