36 weeks... and over it.

Well, I've hit that point. That point where I'm longing to be over and done with pregnancy. When I was pregnant with Johnny I never got to this point, probably because I was so freaked out about having a child (not the delivery part, the taking care of a newborn part). The killer is, since I've done this before, I know that in about three months I'll be wishing I had a nice round belly to sport instead of a squishy one. Alas.

Last time around was so easy! I ate whenever I needed to, exercised when I wanted, laid down when I felt like it... this time? Not so much. Eating isn't going so well considering I lost weight at my last appointment; this tends to be pretty normal in the first trimester, but kind of problematic in the third. Go figure. The problem? I have trouble finding time to eat. When I'm not chasing Johnny, fixing food for Johnny, putting Johnny down for a nap or playing with Johnny, I'm sitting or lying down because I'm so. freaking. tired. Not so much mentally, but definitely physically. I know this fatigue probably has a lot to do with not taking in enough calories, so I should fix that. And I'm working on it. My midwife told me not to even wait until I'm hungry and just eat every two hours. Set a phone alarm if necessary. High-protein snacks are the name of the game. Add that to all of the water I should be consuming, the milk I should be drinking, and the iron I need.

Otherwise, life is going pretty well. Johnny is being great for me by taking a nap every day and having a little independent play time in the morning and afternoon. Thank goodness he has so many toy trucks to occupy him. He's starting to be a little freaked out by my belly. Every time I lift up my shirt to expose it, he looks at it once then starts shaking his head and saying "nononononono". But he thinks my belly button is pretty awesome. As evidenced by him sticking his finger halfway into it in the picture below.