After Midnight

It's 1.30am, my favourite time to write. It's so quiet, save the sound of my husband's breathing. Which is a good thing of course. The girls are probably asleep in the living room; the growing kittens Tumas and Munee. We usually let them sleep on our bed until they get too hyper. Then it's always me who has to take them out because hubs tends to sleep like a log until Tumas wakes us both up at around 4 in the morning with her loud meow and door scratching, wanting to come in. I guess that's how it would feel when we have a baby. Sleep becomes a luxury. 

Speaking of which, I'm five months along in my pregnancy. My appetite is equivalent to a squirrel's. Deep-fried food disgusts me the most, just writing about it makes me feel nauseous. Thank goodness for the milk for pregnant women and oat. My tummy has started to grow now. So far people can't tell I'm pregnant unless I wear something smaller in which I rarely do because it's already uncomfortable as it is. I still feel bloated most of the time and even sleeping is made uncomfortable. The only consolation is I don't throw up as often as I used to so at least whatever little I manage to eat stays in. 

And myth or not, I think I may have developed the baby brain syndrome. I forget things, I can't stay focused and I seriously feel like my brain is working slower. It's like my brain is taking a break and now swinging in a hammock by some beach so whenever I need it to work, I have to pull it away and slap it out of the dreamy state. I hope my boss can tolerate this new (and hopefully temporary!) Izni.

Time to go back to sleep. I feel hungry and a little thirsty but I can't go to the kitchen, lest Tumas would hear me. That little monster can be so annoyingly loud and persistent, but I love her anyway. Already I feel like a mother, heh!