Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Shit.  The crying crap is here.  For the past few days I've been soooo emotional.  I'd heard about it, but not really experienced it.  Now just about every post I read, every show I watch, every thought I have makes me want to sob.  I don't like this.

Then there's the fact that I realized we've only got 3 or so months left to get our shit together.  Mr. W is on a trip right now (will be home in 1-2 weeks) and has another one to go on the end of this month (1-2 weeks gone).  Luckily we're having the carpet upstairs installed about a week or so after he gets back from this first trip.  Unfortunately we're going to have to wait until he gets back from the next trip to install the Pergo downstairs.  This sucks, but when Mr. W went to move the water heater to tear up the floor beneath it he realized that it was about to rust through, so he bought and installed a new tank-less water heater.   YAY!!!!!  As great as this new purchase was, it was not a planned one so the new floor has to wait a little longer.  Boooo!!!!!  So now our final deadline to have the house finished (except for touch-ups and bathroom accessories) is October 31.  BUT...as soon as the carpet is installed upstairs we'll move back into the master bedroom, put the regular furniture back into the guest bedroom, and most importantly the nursery will be put together!!!!

Now I'm really beginning to stress about the financial burden of being a SAHM.  I've been employed since I was 18.  I've contributed to the household income since we moved in together.  Mr. W is positive that everything will be OK.  I have faith in his financial abilities.  I commented to him that if things got too tight then we could put the boys in the base daycare (wonderful daycare!) and I could go back to work.  His response was an adamant "NO" and that he'd get a second job.  That makes me want to cry (sadness at the thought of it and emotional due to the sweetness of the comment).

Then there's the conversation we had about the MIL.  She plans on coming into town for the birth.  That's fine, as long as she's aware that she'll be out in the waiting room.  But now Mr. W thinks that his Mom is going to stay with us while she's here.  Um...NO!  He has known since we first started talking about babies that my Mom would come stay with us for the week after the baby was born.  Who really wants their MIL in the house the week after they come home, anyway?  (and for those of you that do, I admire that!)  I think we finally have it worked out that his Mom will only be here for a couple of days so she can stay at our house while I'm in the hospital, but once I'm home she has to go.  I know I sound like the biggest bitch, but come on!  My Mom has squatter's rights.  She gave birth to me, I'm giving birth to these boys...I WANT MY MOMMY!!!

And last but not least, I have marshmallow feet.  They.  Look.  Hideous.  I'm 23 weeks today and I haven't been able to get the swelling to go down (hands are pretty damned puffy, too) since it started yesterday morning.  I tried sitting in the recliner with them propped up, but my back started hurting so badly that i couldn't do that.  Sitting on the couch with them propped up hasn't done anything.  I've been downing tons of water to no avail.  I'm guessing this is just something that I'm going to have to deal with for the next 13 + weeks.  For your viewing pleasure, I'm adding a pic.  Please forgive the craptastic-ness of this pic, but Mr. W has my camera so I'm stuck using my phone.  (and notice the plywood floor, that's my whole house right now until we get the new flooring down.)  For the record, I normally have bony feet and ankles (and my toes are quite long).

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="320" caption="Stay-Puff Feet & Cankles"][/caption]