Thursday, October 6, 2011

law is pretty clear


Baby Ivy is growing like a weed. Hahahahahaha. That joke will for sure never get old.
I think she's bored. I often feel her hit the same place repeatedly, like she's banging her head against the wall in frustration, or pounding her fist and yelling "Let me out!"

How am I? I'm huge. And maybe freaking out a little bit. Fine, a lot bit. I keep having I'm Going To Be The Worst Mother Ever realizations. Like yesterday I realized we don't own a thermometer. Or a first aid kit. Or even band-aids. And I never buy milk. Or snacks. Kids need snacks, right? I'm so not ready for this. Not to mention my fear of birthing. When I read the results of the pregnancy test, I had two thoughts: 1. BABY!!!! 2. Holy Flaming Robots, I'll have to give birth. I've tried not to think too much about it since then, but we're at T minus sixteen weeks, and it's a thought that's getting harder to ignore.

I do my best to calm my fears by nesting. Nesting like a mad woman. Seriously, If a mother robin and I had a nest off, I would totally win.

Here's the latest addition to Baby Room.


  1. Don't worry. Babies don't need snacks til like 6 months at the earliest, and they don't get milk til a year old. The little babe will be in heaven with her Mom and those little clouds.

  2. I want her to believe she's still in heaven. Maybe I'll paint cherubs on the ceiling.

  3. meg. i wish i could write half as well as you do. i am sitting here in my living room laughing. out loud. by myself.

    miss you!

  4. You're a great writer. I love your blog.


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