A drug-induced coma sounds good right about now


I am tired. Tired tired tired tired tiredy tired. And again I say: TIRED.
The lack of quality sleep (I’m up every 1.5 to 2 hours now) combined with my body diverting most of its resources to gestating would be enough but I’m also now dealing with a doozy of a head cold (for which I can’t take any medication outside of plain Tylenol. I’d give my left boob for some Dayquil right now). I have gone beyond the valley of the shadow of tiredness and have entered the land of mind-numbing exhaustion.
This morning I got a call about 10:20 from Madalyn’s basketball coach asking if we were coming down for team pictures prior to the 11:00 game — neither event about which I had any recollection at all. We missed pictures (they’re rescheduled for Monday) but did manage to make the game, at least. I guess I can blame that partially on the fact that she hasn’t had basketball, neither games nor practices, for two weeks due to weather so I’m kind of out of the habit. However, I’m quite sure it doesn’t help my powers of recall that my head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls.
And in fine illustration of my point, I realized this morning that I was having a hard time remembering a specific set of facts and keep having to look up the answer. I was going to mention them in this entry but have discovered that I have forgotten what facts it is I keep forgetting.
On the (totally unrelated) plus side, I can now announce that it appears John-Zachary is completely potty trained, knock wood. So if my memory doesn’t improve some after the baby is born (and, let’s face it, we know THAT isn’t going to happen) at least I will only have one child in disposable undergarments to remember to attend to.


About msmaryb

I'm a native Californian who lives in Oklahoma. I'm a full-time student, pursuing a Bachelors in Anthropology, following which I hope to attain a Masters in Archaeology. I have three kids, one husband, no pets, and a lot of friends - most of whom live inside my computer. I love to read, write, watch tv (shut up, we can't all be brain surgeons), shop, and travel. I'm trying to set foot in all 50 states before I die. I have 38, so far. I love the Beatles and Maroon 5, and if you think those two things are incongruous, well, they are. But that's me. When I love something, I love it 100%. I don't do anything halfway. I want to know everything there is to know, so I'm trying to cram as much into my brain as I can in the short amount of time I'm allotted in this dimension.

3 responses

  1. Oh, poor Mary! (And I don’t say that because I feel I have to.) You’re getting those late pregnancy blues, for sure — when it seems you’ve been pregnant forever and will continue to be pregnant forever.
    Glad JZ is potty trained; that’s definitely a plus. Rings a bell with me because Sam didn’t potty train until about three months before Julia was born — I was terrified I was going to have THREE in diapers. One in diapers is definitely doable; and girls tend to train earlier than boys, so there’s light at the end of that tunnel. Hang in there mama!

  2. Ah, Mary — I really wouldn’t recommend giving a left boob for some Dayquil…it might be worth a right arm, but a boob? Dude, that’s a life-sustaining appendage right there, don’t go giving it up so willy-nilly.
    (And the “obligatory” — awww, so sorry you’re feeling down 😉

  3. I just want to give you a big hug, put you to bed, and take over for a few days while you get some much needed rest. I’m so sorry that I’m not geographically available to do that. Please know that my thoughts and concern are with you.