Even I'm getting tired of the hormones.

Week 35 and I officially REALLY want off.

My hormones are so fantastical that even I can't believe what is coming out of my mouth, and even though I am trying to self-edit in my head, my brain and my mouth just cannot seem to get it together.

I need cucumbers over my eyes to dispel the redness, and my own personal masseuse to come to the house and remove this baby foot that seems lodged between my second and third rib.

I need a pedicure, and some retail therapy.

I need to stop whining.

With patience thinner than the skin stretched over my baby bump, I am becoming that Mom, snapping at her kid and sighing a lot.

I went into BC Ferries today with A to exchange our fare saver tickets for a card, and as the kind but slow lady behind the counter stood making the transaction, A found the light switch for the entire office, and stood systematically turning it ON/OFF/ON/OFF/ON/OFF. The lady asked me to kindly control my son, and I sighed and told her "I'm doing the best I can" and asked A to sit down and wait. (Secretly, I was a little more than pleased to be causing a disruption with BC Ferries, as I think they're a bunch of fascists.)

Even my husband has had enough. In his own gentle way, he has told me to stop being such a Princess, and while the delivery set me off the deep end, he has a point.

Second pregnancies are waaaaay harder that your first. It's not just dealing with yourself, it's trying to maintain some level of proficiency in being a Mom to your two-year old. I do not like myself right now. I want to get on with it, get my body back, and regain my mobility. And I'm staring at four weeks of post-op recovery time from my C-section. How the hell am I going to manage?