The dog-tired days of summer #iPPP

Y’all, I am tired. Whooped.

Between the embryo known as Ruffle Butt and the hellishly hot temperatures outside, I can barely rouse enough energy to look after my kiddo and get dinner on the table.

My house is “first trimester clean,” meaning that although the trash manages to get into the trashcan, there is always a load of dishes waiting to go into the dishwasher and if you walk through the living room at night you do so at your own risk of impaling your feet on a toy.

Let’s not even talk about the laundry right now.

This week has kicked my butt and it’s only Tuesday night.

We did manage to get out of the house a couple times in the last few days though. On Sunday we went out to the country to visit Greta and the fam for the little girls’ birthday.

Greta made tie dyed t-shirts for the kids during the party, and Monkey’s came out super cute. One day I’ll even take it out of the washer and dry it so he can wear it.

On Monday, Monkey and I met up with some friends and took a “tour” of a chocolate factory where I ate approximately two metric tons of peanut butter fudge. It’s not my fault – the guy kept walking by with the treat tray and my hand just wasn’t able to avoid the trip from the tray to my mouth.

Monkey was thrilled with the whole thing. He nommed the heck out of a chocolate-covered marshmallow and stole two of my fudge chunks as well.

Later he ran off some energy with his pal and a few dinosaurs.

I am so thankful for that little guy. It’s like he knows I’m not firing on all cylinders right now and he gives me a lot of leeway.

He doesn’t hold it against me that I disappear to my room and pass out on the bed as soon as his daddy walks in the door in the evening.

He’s totally fine with yogurt and carrots for lunch, and will share whatever I’m eating for dinner so that I don’t have to fix him his own plate.

And he will come up to me every so often while I’m laying on the couch, cup my face in his hands and declare, “Mama, I need a hug.”

Me too, buddy. Me too.

Whatcha been up to this week? Wanna share some camera phone photos with us?

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19 thoughts on “The dog-tired days of summer #iPPP”

I remember those days, vaguely. The big ones always seem to sense the situation and help out or use it to their advantage. I’m glad Monkey is helping out.

awwww – so sweet. I tell ya, kids make it all better with their sweet little voices. First trimesters suck. Hope you fell better soon.

I haven’t been in my first trimester since June of 2009 and my house is in the same condition. Go easy on yourself…I think you are doing a fabulous job if your little guy is coming up to you for hugs.

Aw, sweet Monkey. Rest up, you.

I so wish I was there to help. I would take Monkey and play, play , play so you could sleep, sleep, sleep. Love you.

I remember resting so much with my first pregnancy, and then being a bit disappointed with subsequent pregnancies that the kid(s) I already had made it difficult to lay around and rest like I wanted to! I’m glad Monkey’s being so sweet. And I love the tie-dye shirt.

My first trimester is long gone yet my house is still in the same state. Oh well.

Rest up and gestate. That’s all you need to worry about.

OMG. “I need a hug”…that kills. Rest woman! Cooking a baby is hard work!

I love that — 1st trimester clean. Gosh…don’t think I can use that excuse for even though I have an 8 year old, the only time I was pregnant was 19 years ago. With three and a husband and a menagerie of pets, our house is never straight. Unless you count the blissful two hours following a rare visit by a housekeeper. Hang in there. It’s worth it and not worth worrying about the mess.

Your house just sounds like it existing on “love livin”….thats how I refer to dressing out of laundry baskets and washing a dish, plate, pan as needed. Anything more than that, I have way to much time on my hands (and I’m not sleeping nearly enough)

Your house is in the “livin on love” stage. We operate on that level as well. There is nothing wrong with dressing out of the laundry basket (hopefully the clean one) and washing a plate, cup, pan, dish as they are needed. Anything differently means you’ve entirely too much time on your hands and you should be sleeping more.

Mess shmess. Rest lady, rest. You know you’ll need it

I’m not even pregnant and this week is kicking my bum! I just can’t catch up anymore. Let the dishes pile up a bit. Take it easy and enjoy those hugs!