25 is NOT the same as 18

I have recently started realizing that 18 and 25 are NOT at all the same.  Not pregnant any way.  I've never felt my age before so the last few weeks have been odd for me.  Let me explain....

I was 18 when I got pregnant with Luke.  In high school, just me and my dad here at home.  I cooked and cleaned, went to school...I was a trooper.  When I nested I had the entire house done in one evening.  If I didnt it drove me NUTS and there was no sleeping till it was sparkling.  It was during the summer, which of course SUCKED, but at about 35 weeks pregnant I was in my front yard with a hoe making a flower bed...because I wanted to.  By this time people had learned to just leave me alone and let me do whatever insane task I was trying to preform while pregnant.  I hauled the mulch, hoed the ground by and and planted the flowers.  With in a week in rained...we have no down spouting, and the entire thing was ruined.  It was ok though because I was over the flower bed any way.  Ah, pregnancy! 

Fast forward 6 years and we find me pregnant again...this time in the winter.  I  must admit that these hot flashes...excuse me, POWER SURGES...are much more endurable when the wind chill is -15 than when it's 90 degrees outside.  However, as I was cleaning the front room today (yeah, said I was gonna do that 3 days ago, didnt I?) I realised that my body is just NOT taking the crap from me this time around.  For starters, I had planned on having this house smelling entirely of vinegar and pine-sol YESTERDAY.  Yeah.  Kitchen and entry one day, front room and bathroom the next, then the bedrooms last.  Yeah, no.  That didnt happen. 

After the kitchen was done my body pretty much formed a sort of picket line and declared all energy left over to be for Daniel.  I started having wicked bad braxton hicks every night and it didnt help that little man seems to feel the need to BEAT me from the inside out everytime I exert myself.  I'm guessing he's the muscle keeping the energy "behind lines."  I know it's sure working.  I've taken to sewing, researching that crunchy stuff, and planning out the garden for this spring.  Today I felt better, and after sewing some rags up, I decided I would tackle the living room.  I half heartedly wiped down the walls, dusted, and cleaned about one and a half windows before the "muscle" declared himself unhappy.  I retreated to face book.  LoL!  Hubs was going to help me today, but as I was digging my beloved pine-sol I noticed that my window rag was soaked...and not in vinegar.  We keep all of our cleaning under the kitchen sink so you can imagine what happened next.  Landon is currently in town looking for something or other to put my sink back together.

So, the goals for the day are to finish the last wall of the front room (I saved it for last because there are no less than 7 perch, 1 walleye, and 1 small mouth bass hanging on it.), and to do the bedroom.  Not bad...IF the energy bouncer cooperates.  I really want this house done before I bring home all the baby stuff from the shower. 

PS...so FREAKING excited about this shower!  Especially after being snowed/iced in for the entire week.