I can entirely NOT do this anymore.
I am cranky. Uncomfortable. Teary. Frustrated. Did I mention uncomfortable? Tired. Angry and generally pissed off. Oh and teary. Actually it could be classified as crying. Teary is perhaps an understatement. Sometimes sobbing. This CANNOT go on. I am borderline googling ways to bring on labour and doing my own stretch and sweep just so this doesn’t go on (clearly desperate). It’s like I have the worst possible case of PMT but as Rob called it. PBT. Pre Birth Tension. Or Penultimate BITCH syndrome. Or something.
Poor Rob and Daisy. Daisy keeps asking me “what’s wrong Mummy?” and my pleading excuses of “not being able to freaking move” (I may have even said fucking under my breath once or twice – I know great parenting) don’t seem to cut it with her. Just now I actually said the words out loud that “you 2 are annoying me” so they have left the house. Who would blame them? It appears that I have turned into a moody teenager with toddler tantrum tendencies.
Yesterday I screwed up ALL of our washing and turned all our whites a nasty grey colour. AND we got another parking ticket outside our own house (which we will get out of BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT). All I want is distractions, but whenever I try and do something it’s just not the right thing to do. I know that this will all be over soon enough. I know that this could be my last day of time and peace and sleep and rest and I am mad to will it along, but I am desperate people. DESPERATE. And I don’t even think all the ice cream, custard, chocolate milkshakes and chocolate will help. The 40th week of pregnancy is not a pretty place to be. For anyone.