just three little things

I’m just pregnant enough to need a stash of meat sticks in my glove box, but not pregnant enough to have shed my inhibitions and be caught actually eating one.  Which is why I put wayyy too much effort into looking as if i was searching for something on the floorboards of my sweet new minivan while snapping into my slim-jim. 

******

Look at Sam.

I knowwww!

Now go check out Mother Falcon t-shirt company and create a shirt for yourself.

 

******

Is it too much to ask for a blue gummy bear?  Curse you, HARIBO!

back in the saddle again

Or, stirrups, rather.

I am out of confetti to toss and little paper horns to toot, but I have something even better for you.  A promise.  From me to you.  That the next six months will not be rife with graphic details about every obstetrics examination, every hot nurse judgement, NOR complaints about heartburn and constipation.

I mean. If you've been here a while, you have certainly "been there- done that" whole thing with me, so I'm going to do my best to carry on and hopefully pick up the pace a bit with my posts without bringing and slinging the goo and poo that go hand-n-hand with being pregnant.

Again.