38 weeks pregnant.

Oh Holy Hell. It’s about that time and literally all I can do is whine and pound oreos while watching episodes of the oh so shiny Duggars.

Yup, we’re nearing the end of the road folks and I’m ready.

Well,  as ready as you can be, to push a human out of your lady bits and then return home to two crazy toddlers who want every piece of momma’s attention.

Major stressor alert:  If you can’t tell, I have a few hang ups about this third child stuff. So many nights I’ve spent worrying and wondering if I can do it, you know?

Can I love a third as much as I love my two bruisers? Can hearts split evenly into threes? Will we ever be able to leave our house? 

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD ARE THERE ANY MORE OREOS? 

All of these answers will be answered in due time. They will all come back with that postpartum energy that I’ve missed so much. Seriously, that post pushing gush of  ” ahhh I just experienced the wonder of childbirth”  is a high like no other. And of course, I’m only using this space to  whine about my own selfish issues, and totally forgetting the best part…a new squishy baby for us to love to death.

So be glad that I’ve locked myself in a social media silence, because there are only so many ways I can avoid saying Vagina on the internet.

Oops. And there you have it.Full whiny Disclosure.

I apologize sincerely.

That was the hormones talking.