As I type this, it is noon on a Tuesday and Kate does not have a stitch of clothing on, having taken it all off in order to play "beach." Where this child got the idea that playing beach requires being in the nude, I don't know. She has never even been to a beach, so it's possible she picked this idea up from television, in which case I might want to pay a bit more attention during Sesame Street. But she's been naked for about an hour and now she's lying on the living room floor eating pretzels straight out of a plastic bag while (I admit it!) watching television. In addition to this squalor, there are dirty dishes in my kitchen and laundry that needs doing and all I want to do is go to bed and take a nap instead.

Welcome to a scene from the 32nd week of my pregnancy. I think it is safe to say I have hit the wall. I cannot believe there are eight weeks left, and at moments like this I have no idea how I'm going to survive them. I really was feeling a lot of momentum and energy until now. I actually had this list of projects around the house that need to get done before the baby comes, and I was getting them done. Which meant I could check them off my list, which I love more than anything. In addition to anemia, which was a problem for me in my last pregnancy and is back this time, I think the main difference is that I am getting into that territory where even under the best of circumstances I am not sleeping very well at night. I start out reasonably alert in the first part of the day, but by the afternoon I'm pretty much toast. I think I am alternating "good mom" days with "lazy mom" days on about a one-to-one ratio. Yesterday Kate and I spent the morning at Explora, the children's museum here in Albuquerque and then had a picnic lunch on their playground. The house was in decent shape and I cooked dinner. But today, after we got out for a regular Tuesday commitment we have, it was all I could do to get home, turn on the TV and hunker down until naptime. Dan is on a business trip, and if I had to bet I'd say Kate and I will be heading out to Chik-Fil-A for dinner tonight. Tomorrow's plans call for a trip to the zoo with friends, which I think qualifies as a good mom plan for the morning. (Exotic animals! Fresh air! Educational plaques!) But I get tired just thinking about it, and that is frustrating.

I recently read this advice about transitioning from one child to two posted on It's Almost Naptime, a blog I have started following and really find hysterical and wise. Being at this point in the pregnancy made her advice about dropping the supermom expectations hit home for me. These last few weeks might just be my opportunity to start working on that so that I don't go into total shock when Isaac gets here.

Update: Kate's changed into a Minnesota Vikings cheerleading outfit and a pink tutu. I am choosing to view this as an improvement. Hey, it's clothing. And it's also naptime, so I'm going to clean up the breakfast dishes, put on the one load of laundry we can't live without, email my editor the final touches of a freelance project I've been wrapping up and then go to sleep for an hour or so.

It's just eight weeks. It can't last forever.
And it's not like I'm going to get any sleep once the baby comes, right? Sigh.

Unrelated note: I started reading It's Almost Naptime because a friend linked to this post, "I don't want my children to be happy," which I loved and think worth sharing. You should head over there, since I'm not exactly keeping the blog lit up with new content these days. Thanks to Paula for the original link.