Hallo! We are camping this weekend! I am feeling rather annoyed at even myself about all the ranty on this site. I need to either keep my political drama to mah DAMN SELF or start a political blog. I think it will be called "McCain Brain Gives Me a Headache."
In other news, it's been a bang-up week for the blogging world - below are some excerpts from some of my favorite writers. Go now, read. You like.
After everything we'd been through, though, I was fine with having a boy; I was fine with having a toddler up to two years old; I was fine with any child, basically -- we just want to be parents, after all, and suddenly the issue of buying overalls instead of dresses seemed inconsequential. Everything else fell away, and I felt completely open to whatever child was meant to be ours.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
I dated another girl named Melody. I knew this wouldn’t end up well. What if she wanted to name our kids Octave, Chorus, and G-flat?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Already horrified, Adam continued reading on to next week (Week 19), and the conversation went something like this:
“You’re baby’s about the size of an …oh my God. A … a MANGO DIPPED IN GREASY CHEESE.”
“It says that? Greasy cheese?”
“I don’t think I want to read this book anymore.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Hot air balloons? Aren’t they gentle and drifty-like? Aren’t you only in the air for an hour or so? I mean, for Pete’s sake, you’re riding in a giant woven BASKET, like you’re a friggin’ EASTER EGG or something. And don’t all the major companies we checked out have 72-point type on their websites proclaiming how “BALLOONING IS FOR EVERYONE!” Except! This is a LIE! BALLOONING IS NOT FOR EVERYONE. Specifically, ballooning is not for pregnant women, even pregnant women who are at the point in pregnancy where there aren’t even two lines on a stick, apparently. Ballooning? Is not even for people who might SUSPECT they are pregnant. Thus, our plans have officially been Cancelled.
In other news, it's been a bang-up week for the blogging world - below are some excerpts from some of my favorite writers. Go now, read. You like.
After everything we'd been through, though, I was fine with having a boy; I was fine with having a toddler up to two years old; I was fine with any child, basically -- we just want to be parents, after all, and suddenly the issue of buying overalls instead of dresses seemed inconsequential. Everything else fell away, and I felt completely open to whatever child was meant to be ours.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
I dated another girl named Melody. I knew this wouldn’t end up well. What if she wanted to name our kids Octave, Chorus, and G-flat?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Already horrified, Adam continued reading on to next week (Week 19), and the conversation went something like this:
“You’re baby’s about the size of an …oh my God. A … a MANGO DIPPED IN GREASY CHEESE.”
“It says that? Greasy cheese?”
“I don’t think I want to read this book anymore.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Hot air balloons? Aren’t they gentle and drifty-like? Aren’t you only in the air for an hour or so? I mean, for Pete’s sake, you’re riding in a giant woven BASKET, like you’re a friggin’ EASTER EGG or something. And don’t all the major companies we checked out have 72-point type on their websites proclaiming how “BALLOONING IS FOR EVERYONE!” Except! This is a LIE! BALLOONING IS NOT FOR EVERYONE. Specifically, ballooning is not for pregnant women, even pregnant women who are at the point in pregnancy where there aren’t even two lines on a stick, apparently. Ballooning? Is not even for people who might SUSPECT they are pregnant. Thus, our plans have officially been Cancelled.
<< Home