Pity Party for 1, please

I've been having a rough couple of weeks.  Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting upstairs hoping the pain from my foot would go away, telling one child to stop climbing the bookcases while telling another to get down off the coffee table, and no, jumping is not an option.  After making sure both children were relatively safe (as safe as two young boys get), I had this thought, "I'm doomed to not have my foot heal, and I am endlessly tired of being pregnant."  This was followed by many more whoa is me moments.

It took me a few minutes to realize I might as well just crawl into a hole and decide to give up for the next 14 weeks of pregnancy if all I'm going to do is self wallow.  Once I realized what I was doing, I said to myself, "Stop having a pity party.  It could always be worse."

Yes, it could definitely be worse.  Not everyone has a husband who comes home after a long day of work, tells his wife to sit down and rest while he cooks dinner.  Not everyone has a husband who loves her enough to tell her she is doing too much and gets mad when she doesn't let him help out. (I never said I was perfect!)  Not everyone has kids who continuously remind Mom she has a broken foot and kisses her boo boo bandage/shoe to make it feel better.

So yes, I'm having a difficult time right now.  This too shall pass.  It is extremely hard to take care of my kids while hobbling around.  I'm crazy tired of being pregnant.  It doesn't help having a stress fracture, and I don't like being pregnant (never have).  I love my kids, but the whole pregnancy part I could definitely live without.  People who say pregnancy is a wonderful thing have obviously never been pregnant in 100 degree heat, running after toddlers, and are constantly tired because a solid night's sleep will not come.

My Grandma's birthday was yesterday.  I called her while she was out and left her a birthday message.  I never expected her to call me back that night to say thank you.  My Grandma is not much of a phone person, so I was surprised.  It was a brief conversation, but it was so nice to hear her say being pregnant in the heat is awful.  She would know; she had 6 children.  It was the perfect thing to say to break me out of a funk.  My Grandmother, who has been through this, understands and says its okay.  Life will gone, and this baby boy will eventually come out of me healthy.  Its nice to have such a simple thing put life in perspective.