3 1/2 Weeks and Counting . . .

Say what??? Three and a half weeks??? Crazy. I'm not planning on being early or anything, but it's not unheard of to be a couple weeks early- so to see that number three up there makes me go, "Crap! What if she's early! I don't have everything yet!" But I have to wait for the shower. I don't want to buy anything just to return it. I HATE RETURNING THINGS. Oh how I hate it. I always will. Things are going good. I've been feeling pretty good, though I've been a crying machine. Basically all day I've been on the verge of crying if not ACTUALLY crying. Who knows why. Everything seems to be overwhelming me. I was all pumped for Primary and the whole time I was hot and sweating like a pig, wondering if I was flashing the room sweaty arm pits and all the kids just looked BORED. For 20 minutes! ARGH! Not very uplifting. Then I come home to the neighbor kids, whom I love dearly, but they're leaving little bits of trash all over the yard and taking all my rocks, after I told them not to and that drove me a little MORE crazy. Choir stressed me out. The song is in 3/2 and if you are musical you know that is SO CONFUSING and it's even worse if it confuses your chorister too. Not to mention we're short on men so the lovely part where the altos take the tenor, and the sopranos take the baritone, only an octave above- CONFUSION! CONFUSION! CONFUSION!!!!! And then to top it all off, someone in the Relief Society calls me to help an old lady move into her house! What! You would THINK I have more mobility than an old person, but bending over to pick something up has become an impossibility. An hour of ANYTHING wears me out for the whole day. I just felt like I couldn't say no. I was shocked they were even asking. Did she forget I'm almost 9 months pregnant? I just hate when people think I can do more than I can. I know it's absolutely pathetic, but it's just the way it is. And if I say so, I feel like people think I'm lying. Anyway. I agreed and then backed out 10 minutes later. I already am worried about all I have to do that day.

So last night Greg and I were asked to chaperone a youth dance. We walk out the front door to have Greg stop with a look of, "Oh no," on his face. Yes, we locked ourselves out of the house, and the car. Hmm . . . new house. No spare key hidden. What to do. I knew none of our windows could be forced open and all the other doors were bolted. We tried to get in with Greg's costco card, but it didn't work. So I say, "Alright, let's break a window." I thought it was our only option. Thank goodness Greg wasn't willing to do that. Long story short, one of our neighbors saw us and Greg asked if he had a bobby pin and needle nose pliers and tried to pick the lock. I loved it. For whatever reason, I thought him using his "break in skills" was sexy. But it didn't work. In the end, our neighbor got one of his drills and DRILLED in the key hole of our knob. It worked like a charm! It got us in, the door knob is still there and we're not going to fix it 'cause we can just bolt the door instead. The whole process took an hour. I was SOOOOOOO grateful for our neighbor. What a good christian.

So the dance. Walking through a crowded room of dancers and arriving at the corner with the "older" women chaperones. That just felt weird. It made me feel old. The music was SO GOOD. I really wanted to dance. I actually did a little bit. Whether people were laughing 'cause I looked cute or ridiculous, I don't know. Greg sort of said I looked funny because I was so pregnant. I'm sure I did. Watching the kids brought back so many memories of stake dances. I never missed one as a teen. I thought about it, and I'm pretty sure the dances were the hi light of my youth. There wasn't much I liked in my life, at that time, but I loooooved to dance. LOVED it.

I am sooo tired lately. I am always needing a nap. I need to start giving in. I never want to nap. I feel like it's wasting my life. You're not living while you're sleeping. But maybe I'll be able to function more than an hour if I get some more rest. When Greg is here, I become such a broken record. "I'm sooooo tired." "My feet are so swollen!" "Wait I have to pee." "I feel like crying" or something "hurts" or "aches". So many complaints. They are all for real, but it's like I can't stop saying them!!! I feel so bad for Greg. He's been SUCH a good sport. He never likes me to complain about anything else, but he's never told me to stop complaining when it comes to those things. I'm so grateful. He seems to get it. He's finished in 4 weeks!!! Hoorah!!! I can feel it coming!