I’m going to be blunt. Call me a bad mother if you want.
Judge me. I really don’t care. I hate being pregnant. I hate the way I don’t
recognize my body. I miss the freedom I
had in surfing, hiking, running and just BEING in nature and the world. And
dammit I miss my wine.
Poor girl-She never saw 9 months of abstinence coming
Despite my animosity toward my delicate condition, I’m not
hating the little wifey it is helping me slowly transform into. The other day,
Tim was in the garage organizing and I was in the kitchen making lunch and
cleaning. Bliss.
Ok- seriously?
Yes. I had absolutely nothing to worry about! Nothing on my
mind except for the love of my growing little family. If you knew me before, you wouldn’t recognize
me now. I wasn’t ever exactly gunning for the route of domestication, yet here
I am. And I couldn’t be happier.
But I swear to everything holy, once Norah is here and it’s
safe to do so I will be enjoying my nightly bottle glass of wine to my heart’s
content. Judge away peeps!
Did you ever think you'd be where you are now 3 years ago?
