Growing.

I know it has been a long time since I posted (sorry!). The pregnancy is still a pregnancy: hormonal, trying to eat, trying to drink, trying not to throw up. You know, the usual. On a random note, my boobs are huge. I switched to sports bras quite awhile ago because mine quickly stopped fitting and I am not going to spend money for new ones when every week they seem to go up a cup. It is ridiculous. This better be one hungry baby.

I did call my doctor's office to tell them drinking 60+oz of fluid a day was just not going to happen. It has nothing to do with nausea or vomiting and everything to do with the fact I just cannot fit that kind of liquid into my body. Every time I have hit 60oz, I ended up throwing at least 20oz back up (along with all the food I ate that day of course). They told me maybe I just don't need as much fluid to stay hydrated, but don't want to put me on a weekly IV yet because that ups my risk of catching something. So I keep trying.

In big news, DH and I, tomorrow, will be official homeowners. Like for real we will almost own a house - after we pay off the mortgage. That's really why we got preggers, to sell the first kid off in return for the house (joking, joking). We are (DH is) trying to pack and work full time and go to school. I feel really accomplished if I pack two boxes a day. Today, I went to the store to schedule our washer/dryer delivery (thank you in-laws!), and packed up my entire closet and nightstand. I literally have to take a solid 15+ minute rest in between each box because it is exhausting. So trying to pack is really stressful. I can't lift heavy things and we have about 10 people coming over Saturday to help with the move. This means it should go quickly and I will probably be shoving the last bits of crap into boxes while they move out what is packed. Then I can just take a nap on the floor at the house while they bring stuff in.

Tomorrow, DH gets the keys and comes to pick me up. From that point we have to go clean the house. We thought in good etiquette, the previous owners would clean. But, uh, yeah. The microwave is so astoundingly disgusting we may go buy a new one. I am pretty sure they put some sort of animal in there and it exploded and then dripped down allllll over the stovetop. It smells that way and its kind of an old brownish-orange color. DH will be taking on that one or I'll just keep voming on top of it. The floors need to be cleaned, the bathroom needs to be cleaned. We'll need to finish packing. DH probably won't sleep so he can finish that up because it will be impossible for me to pull at all-nighter. Magoo isn't ready for that yet.

Really, I just kind of wonder. We're married, we have a kid on the way, a dog, a cat, possibly another dog (a small one that is cheap to feed, but gives Captain a friend to play with in the backyard so that he won't feel left out with the kid when he gets less attention). We have a half a fence at a house we sort of own, our own washer and dryer. I'm almost 30. We are broke. And I still feel like I am 13. I just wonder if you always feel like a kid even though you are taking on so so so much it could break you if you think about it. I know DH is close to being there and I have obviously already been there before, but I can't risk it right now with Magoo needing a calm home. Some days it is hard to not go there.

I am hoping when we hit the 2nd trimester (2 weeks-ish to go) that I start to have energy again. That I can breath while I walk again. That I can craft and get things ready for this kid. And craft to sell. And write to make money. And pull myself together. And help DH pull himself together. Growing has its perks, but it's definitely hard. Definitely.