Guilt.

So.
We're pregnant with our third and we are thrilled.  No it wasn't exactly "planned", but lets be honest, for someone who freaks out when a daily plan is ruined, Devon and I have never been the greatest big life event planners.  But we make it work.  We are happy. And that's all that matters.

It's Christmas time, and I am typcially the one who has the holiday tunes blarin' every day and making some kind of craft or treat every week.  This was the year the kids were old enough to get into "Elf on the Shelf", help me be the holiday crazy I love to be in.

I can't.  This pregnancy is draining me.  I haven't made one craft with them, I haven't made one holiday treat.  I DID help them decorate the tree.  But I haven't even bought the damn Elf on the Shelf dude.  I have no energy for it.  I spent Saturday and Sunday morning slouched over the toilet, and am in bed by 8:30 (7:30 last night), leaving the dirty laundry and dishes piled.  The kids are lucky to get a bath (and I usually stick them in the shower with their dad).  I thankfully felt well enough (after a morning spent barfing) to go on the Santa Train with the kids, Dev and his parents yesterday.  I am so glad.  They had so much fun...and I know it meant the world to them that I was there.  The holidays are all about creating forever memories.  That being said,  I sure hope I start feeling better soon.  They deserve it.