Holy fuck, I am tired. I don't think abnormally, but still tireder than I've been in forever. To think seven months ago I could go kayaking for a couple of hours, eat a little breakfast, hit the garden, go for a 10 km run on the beach, and still be social late into the evenings . . . yesterday I had a very gentle kayak for an hour and nearly fell asleep on my feet during the half hour walk home - today I went out for a 90 minute walk to keep my calves stretched (they cramp up at night otherwise) and was absolutely buggered. I must have slept for eleven hours last night and napped yesterday, and napped again today, and each time the only thing that got me out of bed was hunger. It's like being depressed, except I'm not depressed. I'm rather happy. Just absolutely sodomized with tiredness.
I really don't think that's untypical for this stage of the game, though I will ask the midwife about iron supplements next time I see her, but what's boggling my mind is how the fuck pregnant women do this when they're working fulltime and have an older kid to take care of and a husband who's not supportive/no husband. I literally cannot fucking imagine. I know most pregnant women can have a couple of cups of coffee a day, which I suspect would be helping me no end, but coffee can't go too far against a pervasive exhaustion like this.
At least with the older kid thing there's a good chance I'll find out. The F-word, who has a few years on me, is feeling his age and wants to make a baby brother or sister for Ren sooner rather than later. And like all the preconceptions I've ever had about anything baby-related, my prior iron certainty that a four-year age gap is best is sliding out the window, and I'm starting to think half that might be more appropriate. One of those things that we won't be deciding on until well after Ren's born, of course. Just in case, the massive and beautiful Emmaljunga monstrosity Mum bought for us by proxy does have a toddler seat attachment. That means we're ready, right? Hah. Hah hah hah ha.
Shhhh . . . but I'm starting to have a fairly strong hunch the reason I'm sort of psyched by the Taiwan possibility is us being able to afford a housekeeper. Not sure I can do this with two kids without some sort of staff backing me up. I've already pretty much decided we'll be getting cleaners in here, too, where we can less well afford it.
I really don't think that's untypical for this stage of the game, though I will ask the midwife about iron supplements next time I see her, but what's boggling my mind is how the fuck pregnant women do this when they're working fulltime and have an older kid to take care of and a husband who's not supportive/no husband. I literally cannot fucking imagine. I know most pregnant women can have a couple of cups of coffee a day, which I suspect would be helping me no end, but coffee can't go too far against a pervasive exhaustion like this.
At least with the older kid thing there's a good chance I'll find out. The F-word, who has a few years on me, is feeling his age and wants to make a baby brother or sister for Ren sooner rather than later. And like all the preconceptions I've ever had about anything baby-related, my prior iron certainty that a four-year age gap is best is sliding out the window, and I'm starting to think half that might be more appropriate. One of those things that we won't be deciding on until well after Ren's born, of course. Just in case, the massive and beautiful Emmaljunga monstrosity Mum bought for us by proxy does have a toddler seat attachment. That means we're ready, right? Hah. Hah hah hah ha.
Shhhh . . . but I'm starting to have a fairly strong hunch the reason I'm sort of psyched by the Taiwan possibility is us being able to afford a housekeeper. Not sure I can do this with two kids without some sort of staff backing me up. I've already pretty much decided we'll be getting cleaners in here, too, where we can less well afford it.
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