BAD Mommy! Bad!

So, I'm pregnant.

That has been my excuse for a lot of things. Like not keeping up with my blog for one. It's also going to be my excuse for getting out of jury duty on March 7th. I'm entitled to use it as my excuse because I'm not one of the "lucky" women who just feels a little queezy for a month and then feels blissfully wonderful for the rest of their pregnancy. You know the ones I'm talking about. They are the ones who barely look pregnant at nine months ( or look as big as I do at 6 months ). Who go and get professional belly pictures taken ( no amount of photoshop could help my case ). Have their nursery all decorated by now ( this child will have the same as his 3 other siblings before him ). And who have their hospital bag packed 2 months in advance ( the night before is good enough ).

No...I pretty much throw up every day, have bad skin, mousy hair, insomnia, bad sciatica and complete exhaustion. I noticed that most of the time I walk, I'm arched backwards holding my aching lower back and mumbling "Owe. Owe. Owe." as I go. I have learned to use my toes to pick things up because of my huge-normous belly. There's stickers that Erik put on the tile floor that will stay there for atleast another 3 months because I'm not about to bend over and scrape it up. I'd pass out from not being able to breathe. Oh yeah, and multiple sinus infections because I can't breathe through my nose for the last half of the term. Blah blah blah. I'm surprised I'm having four kids with what I have to put up with for nine months. And I've realized that my pregnancies seem to make me a bad ( guilt ridden ) mommy. Here's why:

1. Laundry which may or may not be washed, folded and guaranteed to be wrinkled beyond comprehension, stacks up. My children think the baskets in the hall are their dresser drawers. At least that's where they look first.

2. I NEED a nap every day. I look forward to putting Erik down for his nap because I know it is also MY turn to take a nap. I don't even have to look at a clock. My body just knows it's 1pm.

3. Nap time to my four year old, means "quiet time." Which means, I sleep on the couch while he watches whatever he wants on tv. It's sad when he will actually turn the tv off because he's tired of watching it.

I know. I told you I was a bad mommy. It gets worse. I promise.

4. My 18 month old's first words? "Buzz" as in "Buzz Lightyear". His first song? "Spongebob SquarePants". Well, it's actually more like "Bunge ba bear 'ts". As soon as he hears it on tv, he will yell "BOB! BOB!" then attempt to sing along.

I know. Bad bad horrible mommy.

The amount of excess tv time might explain why when Jack was asked what we should name the new baby, he said, "Nemo" or "Tarzan".