I’m Pretty Sure…

I’m pretty sure I showered more when Evalyn was a tiny newborn infant than I do now. I won’t even tell you how many days I often go between showers. You'd disown me.

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I’m pretty sure that cutting my hair to where I can barely fit it in a ponytail just weeks before giving birth to another child may not have been a good idea. I’m gonna be grubby (see above, also).

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I’m pretty sure I would like to close my eyes and wake up 3 weeks from now, when the baby is due to be born, and Evan has had time to get lots of work done on the house, without actually having to live these 3 weeks.

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I’m pretty sure it was rude for the Grandmother at the park to turn on the splash pad when (an obviously unsure) Evalyn and I were standing directly beside one of the soakers and there were no other kids in sight who were interested in playing in it.

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I’m pretty sure that while Evalyn and I are Daddy-less most evenings over the next few weeks, we will be making it a tradition to eat a Popsicle every night.

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I’m pretty sure that I might fall down like a ton of bricks the next time we go swimming. The weightlessness in the water is amazing. The opposite of weightlessness as I climb out of the pool with my toddler in my arms, however? Opposite of amazing.

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I’m pretty sure that my Mom heart is never more full than when we are driving, listening to praise and worship music, and I hear Eva singing along. “My so, my so yust sing” (my soul, my soul must sing) are the sweetest words to my ears.

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I’m pretty sure that this pelvic pain is the worst pain I’ve felt in my life. Not exaggerating. If this experience is like Evalyn, childbirth will be nothing compared to this pain. I can hear my bones grinding together when I shift my legs.

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I’m pretty sure I’ve eaten more chips during this pregnancy than I have in my entire life.

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I’m pretty sure I should be ashamed to admit that.

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I’m pretty sure I’m not.