Mornings. I hate them with a burning passion that borders on possible psychosis. I hate the cold morning air, I hate the dew, I hate the frost settled on my truck, I hate waking up, I hate leaving my warm bed, I hate the angle the sun hits my eyes as I drive home from dropping Ms. R off, I hate the cold floors on my footsies ... I hate it all. What I love: Getting back into a warm bed after I drop the girl off at school. I have learned the fantastic skill of going back to sleep after being awake for almost an hour in the morning. By this time, the boy has ALWAYS climbed into my bed. So I carefully pull the covers back and snuggle my back up to his body which is always radiating heat and settle back in for at least another hour, if not two. It's glorious.
Pregnancy. I was not one of those women who "glowed" and made pregnancy look like a cake walk. I was sick, I was tired, I was irritable, I was annoyed, I was stressed, I felt fat. However, I got to wear overalls, which I have never been able to let myself wear (even though I love them). I'm not a mechanic or farmer ... therefore, for I think it's wrong. When you're preggers though, all rules go out the window. Heck, when you're preggers, you can wear your husbands shirts. Even if he's 6'7" and 230 lbs ... just makes the shirts roomier.
Baby on hip. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate babies I just prefer for them to be not babies. Espeically when they belong to me. I am not huge into how you have to carry them everywhere, how dependant they are, how they cry and give you no clue as to what they want, the night time feedings, how the whole world revolves around them, dirty diapers, carrying an extra bag just for them, how my back hurt from carrying around the extra 10+lbs. Having a blanket at church (with a good excuse and not feel like one of the old church ladies) to wrap around myself is a nice bonus though, darn does our church building get cold!