People are especially friendly to pregnant women, leading to lots of conversations with strangers. I’ve had two enlightening conversations lately that have had me pondering them long after the talking was over.
Being 32 weeks pregnant can seriously suck at times. But when I’m not wallowing in pregnancy self-pity, I’m dreading the day that this, my final pregnancy, comes to a close.
Good news, followed by bad news. All clear followed by red flags. For someone who’s not allowed to ride rollercoasters, I sure am taking a ride on a doozy.
What to do when something happens, but it isn’t enough to be a blog on its own? Combine all the mini stories into a bunch of Peanut Shorts!
It would appear that I am very bad at self-administering pokey things and being like Valerie Plame.
Fewer than 1% of adults experience night terrors. Now that I’m a parent, one of my worst fears becomes real for a few seconds every night.
I knew Peanut’s first day at daycare would be hard. All my mom friends warned me that I would cry. So I feel the need to explain the very good reason why I didn’t.
Breastfeeding isn’t as easy as some bitches make it look. Kidding aside, it is harder than it seems, and feelings toward it can be complicated.
When screaming babies, stressful car trips, and a house filled with the aroma of poop are all front and center in your mind, it’s easy to forget just how good you have it.