This second pregnancy is really kicking my ass. I thought things were tough the first time around but everything seems to be taking more of a toll on me with this baby. And despite the fact that I'm in the "good" trimester - if such a thing exists - I still feel like I've been run over by a truck most of the time.
I honestly don't even remember being this tired when Mackenzie was a newborn and had her days and nights mixed up.
The worst part is that I'm actually sleeping. It's not that I'm constantly feeling hungover because I'm up all night tossing and turning or because Mackenzie is waking up too early.
These kids - the one running me in circles all day and the one who has yet to make an appearance - are just sucking every last ounce of energy out of me.
In the past week I've started to notice some whackadoodle behavior that proves I'm the most exhausted I've ever been...
* I've managed to forget about each load of laundry I've started. My "refresh" cycle has seriously been working overtime.
* Climbing stairs has become a Herculean task.
* The other night I asked Doug to turn down "the degrees" before we went to bed because the thermostat was too high.
* I've managed to put my pants on backward three times in a row.
* I haven't been able to remember whether or not I've washed my hair in the shower.
* I've stopped to close my eyes several times while writing this.
* This morning I handed Mackenzie my tooth brush - with fluoride toothpaste -
instead of her own.
* I've repeatedly forgotten to lock the dishwasher door only to be reminded of my negligence by my knife-wielding toddler.
* I struggled to get through a board book at the library yesterday. Mackenzie seemed to sense my pain and relieved me of my duties. She snatched the book after two pages and proceeded to read it alone.
* I can't remember the incident that inspired me to write this post. But it was a good one.