Sleep is for the Weak

I've still got eight weeks (or only eight weeks, depending how you like to think of it) until my due date--but I may reach my breaking point way before that. Every night I spend an hour or two just . . . awake. Usually with a three-and-a-half-pound person thrashing around, getting all up in my internal organs' business. And this lack of restful sleep is killing me. I've never been one to deal well with not-enough sleep. It makes me sort of crazy.

For instance: Yesterday I cried in Babies R Us (again) because choosing a coming home baby outfit was haaaaaard. Then I cried when I got home, looking at all the baby stuff I now have, unsure what to do with everything and feeling terribly unready for this. This morning I cried because I was so hungry, and we were out of milk so I couldn't eat cereal. And clearly THAT is a good reason to shed a few tears.

And believe me, I know that the lack of sleep is only going to get worse when I am up every couple of hours for feedings and all that. Please don't remind me, or I will be forced to punch you in the face.

And if you tell me that I should enjoy the sleep while I still can, I also may have to punch you in the face (see paragraph 1). Just because the baby is still in the womb does not mean he is not already keeping me awake.

But! I have happier things to write about, too. My mom and sister threw me a lovely baby shower this weekend, hence all the stuff I now have. I had such a good time, and I will tell you all about it soon.