Whether I am sitting down, standing up or laying down- I feel as though a dull butcher knife is making it's way through my chest, in between two ribs, twisting and turning... turning and twisting. Ugh.
But it's not all bad. I have been making some discoveries these past few nights. If I shine a flashlight onto my belly Elvis will turn around. I'm assuming to look at the light... or she could be flipping me the bird and turning her back to it. Either way, it's entertaining. Something's gotta give, my nights are boring. Quattro's asleep, the dogs and cats are asleep and Eddie is somewhere in the midwest. I remember at the end of my pregnancy with Q, we bought all the board games you could play with two people (and a few that needed more players... learning curve) and we'd sit up all night and play. Eddie would of course want to go to sleep but he didn't (mostly) and that is why I kept him around.
I miss him. This sucks, touring is hard all the time but when you are pregnant it is especially tough. Too much alone time when you are on a hormonal rollercoaster (who me?) is dangerous. I bet Eddie has some real hilarious stories of me losing my shit over the last 6 months. He'll wait until the coast is clear (when the kids are grown) before he shares them, with me, of course, but I bet they are good. I laugh at myself sometimes thinking back at my ridiculous outbursts. It is like being abducted by aliens, suddenly rational isn't necessary or even considered.
What am I talking about? I think I just "outed" myself.
Yes, it's true. I'm human. I mean, I'm better than most but human no less.
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