Blow it out your ears...

...steam, that is. Why is it when I want to get things done, something has to stop me? All I want is a clean house. But no. I can't clean with chemicals. But if I don't do it, it won't get done. So, am I putting my baby's life in jeopardy just so my shower floor won't be pink? I hope not. Pink shower floors are disgusting. So, on top of not being able to use chemicals (but doing so in moderation), our crazy dog thinks its fun to jump on me. And not on my legs or anything like that. He's just big and clumsey enough to reach my belly. So, now I'm freaking out that our baby is going to be born with paw prints all over him/her. I joke about that, but I'm really concerned. But, apparently I'm the only one who will play with the dog. Then, when he does something wrong, I'm the one who gets to yell at him. Then I'm the one who feels bad. So, after I get finished crying about my baby with paw prints and my pink shower floor and my nasty, gross house that just gets grosser, and my dog that just won't listen, I'm going to take a shower (in the clean bathroom) and try to relax. The last thing I need is to go into labor earlier than my baby needs. It feels good to vent.