Monday, Not Manic

In my unintentional attempt to use the word NOT in post titles (day 3)...

My "little" bambino is apparently around 7 pounds now.  I am desperately fearful of a 9 pounder by the time all is said and done, but, hey, Hulk was 8 11 and Judy 8 9.  What's a few more ounces?  Wait, lemon-watermelon, never mind, bad idea.  It's just that feels big or at least lanky, and of all the absurd things, at her 20-week ultrasound (20 weeks-when they are all basically the same size), the rad tech was exclaiming over her long femurs.  Everything else measured to size but she had incredibly long femurs.  IDK.  You just never know what's going to come out until it comes out.  She will either be my beautiful, long femured babe, or another 6 foot girl in the making like Judy.  I'll take her and love her with every part of my being regardless.

AND the reason it wasn't a manic Monday beside hearing precious heartbeats and head down and GBS negative?  We recovered every public and school library book that was due this morning...and that was with waking up the kids only 30 minutes before liftoff.  It was poetic.

Why 30 minutes before liftoff?  My Body is T-I-R-E-D.  It can sleep lots, in between the middle of the night romps, and in the morning, it doesn't want to wake up, so I get up around 8 and then have a few minutes' peace and then boom, we are rushing around and shooting out the door.  It's not the glamorous lifestyle (read-lovely, organized, peaceful, slow paced) that I dream of, but I am in survival mode for the next few weeks or months...or years (ok, it won't be that bad), so we just count the getting where everyone needs to go on time as a blessing.  Forget about the sometimes wonky hair.  God still loves us all!!!