Man, I’m wiped.
Before I get going:
*DISCLAIMER*—I’m fully aware that Karli’s the pregnant one, and as such mocks my silly “tiredness.” But this isn’t her blog; it’s mine, so keep it down, all right?
People have told me how long and boring and excruciating these last few weeks before the baby gets here can be. I was prepared for that and have already made fun of myself for it. Nobody mentioned how damn exhausting they are, too. Well, people have talked about how tiring it is for the mom-to-be, which is no surprise. But nobody mentions how the expectant dad is tired, too. Till now that is.
For starters, I haven’t slept well recently. It takes forever to get to sleep with a thousand things racing through my head. Once I get there, I’m startled awake with every rustling from Karli’s side of the bed. Hell, if she makes a noise, I’m practically jumping up to grab the hospital bag. It makes for pretty long and fitful nights.
Once I’m up, I’m up. And working. At the risk of tooting my own horn, I’m doing a whole lot of work around the house to make sure we’re ready for when Squatch pops out. I fetch water, make meals, fix the car*, put baby things together, do laundry, wash dishes, clean the house, and pretty much anything else around here that requires movement of the non-pregnant variety.** Not that I’m complaining. It’s kind of my job. But it’s tiring.
Let this be a lesson for you dads-to-be. Get ready to be anxious and impatient and tired during the last few weeks before your kid is born. If you’re doing it right, that is. Unless I’m totally doing this wrong, in which case I’m going to have to have a little talk with Karli.
Now it’s time for me to head out with Karli for our evening walk because, y’know, I need to wear myself out. It’s only for another couple weeks. Then Squatch will be here and—