How jellybeans gave me a wake-up call.

Last night was a bad night. By the time I finally got to bed at 11:00 after running ragged all day trying to check things off my depressingly long to-do list, I crashed. Then I woke up mere hours later by Kevin coming home from work and the realization that I was extremely uncomfortable. I felt like I was eight months pregnant, not five. My hips ached, my back hurt and my right leg was asleep. Not to mention I was flat on my back again, which always makes me feel excruciatingly guilty (BIG pregnancy no-no). Needless to say, the rest of the night followed suit and I’ve spent the better part of my morning in a fog. A grouchy, “pregnancy sucks” fog.

And don’t you dare tell me the sleepless nights are only getting me ready for a newborn. I might punch you. Or cyber-punch you, if you say it in a comment. (I'd find a way, trust me.) 

The thing is, whenever I get in moods like this, it never fails that something comes along to remind me why I’m doing this.

Today, it was jellybeans. Yes, jellybeans.

{source}

I’ve been a jellybean hater my entire life, but suddenly they’ve turned into my manna from heaven. I can’t get enough of them. And I’m trying really hard not to think about their imminent disappearance off of store shelves in four days, because it just might cause an emotional breakdown. Anyways, I was sitting here on my lunch break, enjoying the handful of Jolly Rancher jellybeans I remembered to throw in my bag this morning, when baby suddenly started throwing swift kicks into my abdomen. It literally felt like a happy dance was going on in my stomach.

Turns out baby likes jellybeans just as much as her mommy. (She also gets extremely hyper from sugar just like her sister. Great.)

Now, this was far from the first time I've felt her move. In fact, it's been over 4 weeks now since the first little taps of movement. But this time was different. Maybe it was just the timing. It was as if baby girl felt the need to give me a not-so-subtle reminder that she’s in there, full of personality already. I could almost hear the hint she was trying to drop: “I’m not going anywhere, and I'm obviously good at giving out cute little kicks, so quit wallowing in misery.” Point is, I’m doing this for her. I’m tired and achy and popping out of my clothes for a reason. Thank you, jellybeans, for playing your part in that little reminder.

It cheered me up just a little.

Until I ran out of jellybeans, anyways.