Kerfluffed

Wiped.  Exhausted.  Beat.  Pooped.  Worn out.

Kerfluffed.

It’s my new word for just plain tired.

When you consider wiping the coffee drips off the side of the trash can to be an accomplishment for the day, you must be 8 months + pregnant.

What have I done today?  Swiffed the living room floor.  Wet-swiffed the downstairs laminate.  Windexed the inside of the storm door and the cat snot off the front window. 

…Made a mental note to wash the outside of the storm door and front window glass.  Made another mental note to yank all the dried up petunias out of the front porch pots and replace them with mums this weekend.  Crusty old flower carcasses aren’t the most welcoming, no?… 

Emptied the vacuum canister into the trash – took out said trash – put away said vacuum.  Oh yes….

….and wiped the coffee drips off the side of the kitchen trash can.

And now I’m kerfluffed.  That is, I’m pretty much useless to do anything else. 

Good thing today is finally a little cooler than 95.  It helps. 

Last night we went to the pool at the rec center so I could float my belly (my family thinks I have a tiny belly, but trust me, it feels big enough.  Especially at the end of the day.).  We seemed to make quite the ahem– splash – with the teenage lifeguards watching over all the little kiddos in the pool with us.  I’m fairly certain they were more interested in watching us than watching the actual kids.  Apparently 20-something couples don’t often go to the pool without a rugrat (or 2) in tow?

Something else I’ve noticed is that since being pregnant, little kids seem much more friendly.  I don’t recall them ever looking twice at me before, and now they walk right up and talk to me like they know me.  Case in point: I had a little boy following me around the pool last night, popping his head up every few feet to say “HI!”.  

It got kind of awkward.  Not gonna lie.  How many times can you say “hi” back to a 6? 7? 8? year old before legitimately wondering if you have a boogie?  Or a big smear of mascara running down one cheek? 

Five times.  Give or take.

That’s when I started wondering just how freaky I must look to be drawing such random attention.  (Side note:  didn’t have a boogie or mascara issues.  Still wondering…)

On a separate note:  good news!  I think I’ve finally got some ideas for décor in the baby’s room.  You know….for the 3 walls that are currently blank.  I need to go hit up Jo-Ann and/or HobLob for supplies though.  Maybe I can find some energy to shop this afternoon and beat the weekend crowd. 

Main objective this weekend:  check out some places around town for a dresser.  The kind I don’t have to refinish.  I already have a buffet hutch that still needs refinishing, so the new rule – as of ….now….is only one refinishing project stashed in the basement at a time.  Watching too many episodes of “Hoarders” will do that to a person…just sayin’.

In the meantime…rest assured there are….2 half finished baby room projects downstairs and 1, 2, 3, no FOUR more in my head (not counting the valance which you already knew about.)

And now onward.

Like a herd of turtles.  Or a turd of hurdles, as my dad used to say.