Every preggo woman is scrubbing floors, right?

And no, I didn’t start scrubbing floors because I’m feeling all nesty nesty — I’m always in nesting mode. I scrubbed the floors because I had no damn choice.

I woke up this morning to a true cluster F nightmare. I walk downstairs to let Murph out and the kitchen was at Def Con 9, full on disaster zone. In my hazy, half awake state, and shock, it took me a good minute to realize what had happened.

TC made me my favorite dinner last night — baked spaghetti, along with a killer sauce. After we ate, I cleaned the kitchen and had container cooling on the stove.

Well, The BF never put the container away {and I’m not blaming him, it just happened} and at some point, the cats got into it. I had it on the way back of the stove and those little shits pushed it over onto the floor.

Where upon the glass container broke into a zillion and nine pieces. Result? Glass EVERYWHERE and Murphy ate all the food {practically a full 9×12 Pyrex size}. I’m sure he was in his glory at the time. It’s baked spaghetti. That’s full on glory eating with every bite.

Now how in the hell we both slept through all this noise, is beyond me. I’m typically a very light sleeper. But, we did. And the cats clearly had enough time to make a further mess with all the damn glass, because, People — for real, it was everywhere. All over the counters. In the living room, dining room, basement stairs … oh it just felt endless. Still does.

And I kinda lost my shit for about 10 minutes. I thought this was extremely impressive, given my 40 WEEK pregnant state. The BF wasn’t all that impressed though and kept telling me to, calm down.

Heads up, boys. That’s a really rather poor choice of words to tell your wife or significant other when she’s 40 WEEKS preg and standing in the middle of broken glass and dog slobbered tiles with caked on spaghetti sauce.

Word of advice — say nothing, unless you want to agree with her.

In his defense, he did offer to do clean up. Except in this extreme kind of situation, I trusted no one but me to tackle. I have a thing about glass. It freaks me out. That’s typically what happens when you’ve had to pull out shards of glass from your foot multiple times. And with baby soon to be here, I just can’t risk something like that. Therefore: I clean.

It took me almost two hours. Most of this was with lots of pauses in between and heavy breathing yet feeling like a total bad ass because omg — here I am at 40 weeks scrubbing the shit out of floors like a boss — and hell yes I’m proud about that.

On the plus side, I figured I finally did get the floors clean in time before The Babe. So success. I highly doubt cleaning floors is going to be high on my list here within the next week or two — probably two months.

See, progress, People. Letting it go. Trying to release myself of the house perfection thing.

Next up on the agenda? Thrifting. Because that’s the other thing you do at 40 weeks pregnant while waiting for your baby to show up.