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Bedtime

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Mr Smith didn't really appreciate my last post title that had the word boob in it. Certiainly no one can hate on bedtime, which it's 9 o'clock, so here I fizzle out. Truth be told, I fizzled out about 8 hours ago. 

But I cooked dinner, started the dishwasher, unloaded the dishwasher, started a load of whites, folded that load, cooked the ham to have for tomorrow, sliced that darn ham & put together lunches - that never happens all in one evening. I mean sometimes I'll get this spurt of energy, but I only ever get so far.

It's all because I know Mr Smith didn't think I'd actually do it. I know he doesn't expect it, but part of me is stubborn and wants to prove how awesome I am, and part of me does it to show my love. It's rare (not my love) but my ability to care enough to see something completely through. 

Any way, gold star for me tonight. I'm going to bed. Work always comes too soon. And it has been rainy and cold here. Where the heck is Spring?

Someone told me about how their child got tangled in the umbilical cord and she had to go to the hospital when she realized he wasn't moving like normal. So now I try not to get too annoyed when sleep is uncomfortable or I can't focus - because all I want is for her to be moving.  
how.to.scare.a.pregnant.woman.

Man, I am exhausted.

But I'm glad Mr Smith can come home from basketball happily surprised.
And he has ham for lunch. 
#truelove #happymarriage #thisislife



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