You know those pregnant bloggers you can’t stand because ALL they blog about towards the end of their pregnancy is THEIR PREGNANCY? Yeah. I’m one of those. Yes, I’m still going on and on and ON about it. No, this pregnancy will NEVER END and my fetus will be attending college in utero.
I try to think up different things to write about but honestly, it’s all that is going on with me right now and when it feels like someone is doing a faceplant into your tailbone it tends to take most of your focus.
I try not to blog about the very big things that are going on with me because well, they are very big and blogging about them would be…complicated. So, I talk about the smaller things to take some of the pressure away from the others.
Like the fact that I was so tired I bumped into a clothing rack while shopping AND APOLOGIZED TO THE DAMN THING.
OR that I went to lunch with a great theater friend and talked for a long time after we finished eating. We said goodbye and she went to pay her bill while I went to use the ladies room first. GUESS WHO WALKED OUT WITHOUT REMEMBERING TO PAY?! (I went back 4 hours later. It was mortifying.)
But nothing, NOTHING is as suckitbucket as having to use a motorized cart to go shopping.
A few weeks ago, Jonathan dropped the bomb on me. He was going to WalMart to do the family shopping. I wanted to get out of the house so much. He had been away on business for a week and I really missed him. I was so lonely, the thought of having to stay at home alone AGAIN was too much.
So, I asked if I could go, too.
I get winded and tired walking 5 ft. and WalMart has nowhere to sit down in the middle of their store. Our last shopping attempts had been disasters, with him practically having to carry me back to the front of the store to sit down. But I must have looked really sad and pathetic because he said I could, BUT…
I looked at him, horrified.
All I could do was quote Monty Python at him and beg for mercy.
“I don’t want to go on the cart! I feel happy!! I feel happyyyyy!!!!”
No go. It was use the cart or stay home.
I gave in and agreed. Which is a huge indicator of my present mental state.
I’ve used a motorized cart before.
I had to ride on one for months after I had a huge blood clot when Christopher was born. I never got used to the looks I got nor managed to maneuver one successfully. While they are absolute life savers, I HATE THEM.
This cart TOTALLY makes my butt look big.