A mess

Ok, friends, I'm a mess.

I'll be the first to admit it.  I'm a tired, pregnant, hormonal, self-doubting mess.

If I remember correctly, these feelings start to settle in the second trimester.  At least, that's what I'm choosing to remember.  Just this week I fell asleep watching The Daily Show.  And no, I don't mean the new one that comes on at 11pm, I mean the night before's episode that comes on at 7:30pm that we often watch just after putting PDG to bed and finishing up a little dinner together. At some point J-Man convinced me to relocate from the couch to the bed, but otherwise I was out until 5am! Clearly I'm exhausted.

Plus, my ears have decided to do the thing where they don't pop again.  But rather than starting in the 3rd trimester, here I am, 9 weeks along, with 31 to go, and I have to tell my kiddos to speak up when they read their homework aloud because I feel half deaf.

AND, my adorable, sweet, PDG just won't walk.  Which makes me feel like the world's worst mama, even though I know he's still in the normal range and he stands by himself all the time and shows every competency of being able to.  But when other ladies at the park are like "oh he's 13 months?  and not walking? hmmm..." my usual confidence is shot by doubts of maternal capacity and oh-my-goodness-if-I'm-screwing-up-with-PDG-how-can-I-have-a-second????

A mess, right?

Here, right now, after having napped when he napped this morning, and having had a good long cry with J-Man this week, I feel good.  Together even.  I can type about this nutty catastrophe that is my inner monologue and know everything is gonna be just fine.

But goodness gracious, I can be one crazy and insecure mess after a half-deaf day with teenagers, not enough sleep, and too many googled non-verified medical facts in the back of my brain.

Here's hoping these next three weeks pass quickly and that 2nd trimester brings some assurance with it.