I complain a lot.

But, ya know, I really shouldn’t. There’s lots of women who are hoofing this path all by themselves. I’m not by myself, not even a little bit, and the YCU is really a good guy. He just wasn’t pre-housebroken, so I get frustrated and lose my patience sometimes. (Now, if I could just nail him down long enough to come up with a name…) We’ve been having fun this week feeling little Optimus Prime move. That’s his name for now. Yeah. I know. He threatened to decorate the nursery in Transformers or Spiderman, but I nixed that one in favor of helicopters and trains. The movement’s been very reassuring for Mommy, cause she really is losing her mind. Every single day, I have to restrain myself from tackling the anesthesia tech at work and forcing him to turn on the cardiac u/s machine they have in there. I’m doing better, though, now that he’s making me aware of his presence by practicing to become a gymnast. (Thank you, Sweet Pea.)