it wasn't clarinetapalooza. it was bassoonapalooza.
and it was snorefest 2011. we played hangman on the program.
before i begin this, let me first say this: i am grateful. what i am about to say does not negate or change that gratitude. i am, for example, grateful for every single day that Baby Girl stays where she is. it occurs to me today to be exceedingly grateful for the relative ease with which i am dealing with the third trimester. i have a few issues, but it's nothing huge. i am grateful.
but i am also struggling. i don't know exactly what it is, but i feel grumbly. grumbly and frustrated. i am frustrated that i don't feel free to eat ding dongs whenever i want because i know what i know. we were at walmart tonight and i was literally walking down the aisles grumbling under my breath, a long stream of perceived injustice at the world because there are women out there who eat whatever they want and never seem to pay the price for it and i feel compelled to watch everything that i eat (not that i'm fantastic at that either) and just look at the box of hostess products in what can only be described as envious coveting. i feel frustrated that i don't feel pretty or even like i look decent on most days, mainly because i stay here and i don't have many clothes to wear and it feels like it doesn't matter what i wear, something gets smeared on the belly when i'm cooking at some point without me knowing it so everything looks like junk. i am grumbly and frustrated because, i think, i am in this weird nether region between "ages left before she's here" and "holy junk it's just around the corner."
it just feels like dr. seuss's waiting place, and i don't like it.
i don't like feeling like i am not doing enough. i know i do a lot, and i know i'm doing well, but that's all intellectual knowledge and it's not easy to feel that way. i feel like everything that comes out of my mouth now is negative, but only about myself. i don't see the things that i do as anything other than pale in comparison to what i want to do or what i used to do or what i should be doing in the world of Shoulds where Intention is King.
i'm just...tired. maybe that's it. maybe i'm just tired. maybe this is the beginning of the process wherein you become so very miserable being pregnant that you're willing to do almost anything to have the baby on this side of the world rather than on that side.
if that's the case (and i think it probably is), that makes sense and i'll take it.
but in the meantime, i've really got to find my way out of the case of the grumblies. i don't like me like this. i don't like how it feels, and i definitely don't want my husband to wish he could eat the words he spoke when he told me that i wasn't a complaining pregnant person. more than anything, i don't want him to think that i am.
tomorrow, i'll play the productive glad game. but for right now, i just wanted to give voice to what i've been thinking. sometimes, when you give it a voice, it gets a little bit better because it's less daunting, scary, or powerful.
it already seems conquerable, more so than 10 minutes ago.
thanks for letting me share.