Thoughts from an ADD-ish Prego

• I caught my reflection in the window tonight - the side view.  Ugh.  Really?  Really.  I'm round.  27 weeks down, 13 to go. 
• Our baby has a name.  Kate named her.  When I told the kids that we were having a girl, Kate jumped (seat-belted in the car) and squealed in excitement, quite loudly and with her hands flying over her head, "BABY!" Except she didn't say "baby" she said the name that she has liked for the last however long.  How can you say that it would be anything different after that cute reaction?  And what a cool bonding thing for Kate to name this baby and for the baby to be named by her big sister.  The kids all call her this name pretty much every day now.  Again, how can you say that it would be anything different after that?  I'm not saying what name it is until she is here, though. Sorry.     
• Jiles would not stop crying at dinner time tonight.  He was so tired and couldn't figure out what he wanted and neither could I.  I tried giving him cold cereal, but he couldn't figure out what spoon he wanted and it just made him more frustrated and cry harder.  I tried giving him ice cream, but he didn't want it.  Weston was gone tonight and when he is we just sort of eat whatever for dinner.  I made some burritos for the kids.  He wanted those.  I ate cold cereal and ice cream.  A great dinner for my girlish figure.
• I listened to General Conference today (and will again tomorrow)(it was really good) while cutting fabric for a banner thing that I'm making for our school carnival next week.  When I wasn't looking Ezra took my rotary cutter apart and left it on the table.  I noticed it and fussed at him just as he came up to me asking me to put a bandage ("band-AGE" as he says) on his finger that he sliced in the process of taking it apart.  I fussed at him some more and told him to go throw the bandage wrapper in the trash.  A few minutes later I heard faint crying and went around listening until I figured out it was Ezra crying upstairs.  I felt shame instantly.  He had held in the crying of his hurt finger and his hurt feelings until he was upstairs in his room by himself.  I felt SO horribly mean!  And I had just listened to the talk about how precious children are.  I held him for a long time.  He cried for a long time and then fell asleep.  I kept thinking how I need to be a nicer and more understanding mom.  When he woke up I hugged him tight, apologized, told him I loved him so much and then gave him the rest of the cookies-n-cream ice cream.  
• We went out for Weston's birthday on Tuesday night.  We drove 120 miles round trip and spent $34 in gas to get Red Robin.  His birthday "FREE Gourmet Burger of your choice" coupon didn't come before we left because I hadn't signed him up for the birthday club until that morning, but we went anyway.  On the way down I kept smelling something nasty.  "It smells like POOP in here! And not cow poop!"   After bringing up that I smelled poop a few times with several minutes in between, Weston finally smelled it (his nose is not nearly as keen as mine) and declared that it was indeed poop, and that it was pig poop.  Spencer was sitting in the middle of the seat behind us wearing none other than the boots that he had worn to feed the pigs before we left.  Weston stopped and wiped them in some grass on the side of the road as best as he could and put them in the back of the suburban.  They still stank.  We met my mom (my dad was at work) and Weston's parents at the restaurant.  I "sneakily" told the waitress that it was Weston's birthday.  She said that they would sing to him after we got our food.  We got our food.  Weston got a not-so-"FREE Gourmet Burger" of his choice and a strawberry milkshake.  The waitress came around to clean off some plates and said to me that they'd be right out to "embarrass" him with a song.  Jiles spilled Weston's milkshake, which we both caught at the same time and kept it from shattering on the floor, but the shake spilled, barely missing everything but the floor and the side of my chair.  A guy came to mop it up, we got our check, and everyone stood up to leave.  Waitress? Song? Hello?  Weston never did get sung to on his birthday.  But I didn't realize that until the next day.  How lame am I?  We celebrated with cake and ice cream and the song 2 days later.  Poor Weston.  
• I have so many things that I want to do - projects, and so many things that I need to do and really don't want to do - like the dishes.  I am a major day dreamer and I probably have ADD (doesn't everyone these days) and I get side-tracked extremely easily, so I have projects started everywhere.  Really, how does Weston put up with me?   
• I need to free up room in my brain.  I feel like my brain is like my computer sometimes.  I need to delete older stuff in order to fit the new stuff that I need to put in there.  It is only 140 gigs - my computer, don't know about my brain.  
• I'm tired.  My legs hurt.  I was going to put a picture on here, but I'm too tired.  That would require walking upstairs to get my camera and I'd really just rather use the last of my energy typing about how tired I am instead of standing up and getting my camera.  But I'm getting up now.

I'm
going
to
b
e
d.
    
gute nacht.