I’m starting to notice that I’m getting a little cranky.  I think I do a decent job of controlling it despite what Johnathan and Kylie might think (yes. . . you guys miss out on a lot of what I’m thinking).  Let me tell you about the last couple of days.
Sunday, by the time we left church and ate lunch, my feet and ankles were pretty swollen.  We had a few things to do before going home (one of which was going back to the church to see a friend be baptized..yay!) so the day was long.  When we got home, I was trying to open a bag of mini-Twixes that I had bought at the grocery store.  Well, I couldn’t open it with my bare hands so I decided to grab a pair of scissors out of the drawer in the kitchen (we have 3 pairs that we usually keep there).  They were all gone!  All of them!!  All three freaking pairs!! I was fuming.  My first instinct was to throw the bag across the kitchen, but I knew that at least one pair had to be in the office.  I grumbled all the way to the office (probably because no one was in the house to yell at) telling myself that throwing the bag wouldn’t solve anything. . . but I almost did it anyway.  I actually found 2 pairs in the office. . . arrrggghhh (no, I didn’t move them both back to the kitchen, but I did move one).  Eventually, I had my candy so I finally sat down to put my feet up. . . around 4:30 or 5:00 (yes, I did fess up to my hubby about my hormonal fit of rage…a man should at least be told when he has been in danger of losing his head).
After my ankles were back to a recognizable size, I had to get up and cook dinner, make a dessert for Monday night small group, do laundry and vacuum (not trying to be a martyr, although I think I could be very good at it. . . I’ll admit that Johnathan and Kylie were working very hard outside).  My feet were killing me.  Later that night, while I was taking my makeup off, trying to get to bed, I thought I was going to cry.  Johnathan had just bragged on me the other day that he thought I was doing an amazing job balancing everything.  ;)  Much appreciated, but that is surely coming to an end (so far I have been trying really hard not to use my pregnancy as an excuse, mostly because I knew this day would come, and I didn’t want everyone to be tired of hearing it when I really needed help).
Last night, during small group, I was sitting on the couch and had my feet propped up for obvious reasons, when all of a sudden (well, it took a few minutes) I felt short of breath.  I thought maybe I had eaten too much and was getting indigestion, so I went downstairs and grabbed some Tums.  Didn’t help.  Every time I sat down, it just felt like everything was cramped.  So I finished the last few minutes of the discussion standing up.  That helped a little.  But it progressively got worse.  By the time we got downstairs and I started cleaning the kitchen, I felt like I was going to hurl (kind of like when you’re running really hard…oxygen deprivation).  My heart wasn’t beating fast or anything.  I was just having trouble taking deep breaths.  Johnathan told me to go sit down.  I explained that sitting didn’t help.  I needed to lie down.  So he told me to go to bed.  But there were still people there so I felt I couldn’t.  I kept trying to do little things to help in the kitchen, and he kept grabbing them from me.  He finally convinced me so I excused myself and headed to the bedroom.  On the way, I realized that I had clothes in the washer so I had to get the clothes out of the dryer and switch them over.  He actually came in there and gritted his teeth at me and “ordered” me to bed.  It made me laugh a little (I don’t know why).  But I explained that I had to get the clothes in the dryer.  So he made me promise that it was the last thing I would do.  Then, he went into our bedroom and came out with a pair of scissors.  I asked where he was taking those.  He smiled and said, “I’m putting them back in the kitchen where they are suppose to be.”  I said, “Oh, there’s already a pair in there now.”  He said, “Well, better to be safe. . . ”  Such a wise man.