Getting a *little* too pregnant for this

I am into week 33 of this my second pregnancy.  Past the nausea and first trimester exhaustion, through the grace and cute belly of the second trimester, right into a whole new third trimester exhaustion, which is accompanied not by an aversion to food but by a nagging hunger and widening everything.  I am also anemic, which isn't rare or anything for a pregnant person, but it adds to the exhaustion.

On the other side, I have a wildly cute and energetic two year old who is home with me seven days a week.  I still want to do all of the activities that we do, but I am thinking that some wind down is in order.  Today we went to storytime at the public library, which usually I love.  Today there was even a special guest, the Mayor of Nashville!  (This was cute, since he was introducing a fluffy but nice reading campaign, but I don't think anyone told him that his audience would be 60% 2 years and under, and at least 35% moms.  Poor guy seemed genuinely rattled by being talked over by most of the crowd, while his speech was either aimed at five year olds, or else he is a holdover from the nineteenth century notion that women have brains more similar to gorillas than human men. Mayor: "Books are like broccoli for your mind!" Two year old: (shouting) "I have a SHOE!!" )

So, library storytime.  It involves sitting on the ground.  Which now means one big baby on my lap and one small baby climbing up my rib cage.  After the official presentation, one must peel oneself off the ground to exit the theater.  A lady tries not to grunt and expose the fact that her maternity panel rises high, high up to the heavens.  I am not much of a lady.  Then off to find books.  Guess where they keep books for little kids?! Real low? You bet! This means crawling on all fours, because while unsightly, it is better than passing out from losing oxygen on a badly executed forward bend.

After all of that, picnic in the atrium.  I decide that I am a "cool mom" today.  Cool moms don't fret or micromanage.  And so, happily, cool moms don't have to get out of their seats that much. And I really needed to sit.  So I let Edie eat awhile and then when she begged to get up to walk over to the nearby water fountain, I say, okay, but first, chew and swallow.  You see, Edie loves to take great big mouthfuls of food.  But she is prone to forgetting what comes next, especially when distracted.  And then the food just sits in her mouth, masticated occasionally, until something gives.  Well, I got her to chew and swallow before she left, but she still had a fistful of food, and evidently took another bite on the way.  She returned to me a few minutes later, mouth frothing over with Tofurkey and saliva over-production.  And that's when cool mom turned into incompetent mom, as I saw what was about to happen. "Oh, Edie, no! Swallow!"  Instead: projectile vomit. "Oh, God. No! Edie!" (I am such a natural nurturer.) And that was the coup de grâce of our library trip.  I left in defeat, bedraggled and smelling of puke, holding hands with a toddler who insisted on running the entire way to the car. 

Tomorrow: music class.