36 Weeks | The Brilliant Narcoleptic

3.18.2015
I've reached that point in my pregnancy where I'm ready to not be with child in womb. I want child outside of womb.

This kid is supposed to be so squished she can't move anymore, but my ingenuous offspring has found a way to still kick the living shit out of me at all times of the day and night. There's no stopping her wiggles, punches and kicks. Sometimes they're hilarious and I can laugh them off. Other times they hurt so bad I cry. I actually cry!

Mark seems to think this will make me a weak candidate for labor, but the doctor assured his doubting butt I have not a lick of body fat on my belly so when she decides to stretch she's in fact stretching my rather taught skin tortuously. Good, fun times.

Being I'm an actor and movie buff I had to find an exemplary clip to help him understand and see the pain. Behold... Ziggy kicks:



Yep, friends... One minute and eight seconds in. That be the joy I experience.  I remember listening to women talk about how little they enjoyed their pregnancy. I would shrug off their complaints and tell them how magical and beautiful pregnancy was. I want to sucker punch that naive and totally clueless, opinionated chick in her vagina. She knew NOTHING! 

36 weeks...just a couple more and this kid will fly the coop. In the meantime you can find me on my couch, passed out. I sleep through her rockstar antics like a G. 

Yours Truly,

The Brilliant Narcoleptic 


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