My child-in-utero hates the sound of running water and makes me pay for it every time I shower or wash the dishes. Clearly this is an excuse for me to not have to do either of those things. You don’t have to smell me or come into my kitchen, so what’s it to you?
My child out of utero hates the sound of the word nap. I don’t know if its the nnnn or the aaaah or the abrupt puh at the end, but something about the word makes him crazy. Speaking of syllables and pronunciation, my son has the tendency to add or substitute a T sound at the end of any words that end with an N. One sounds like Wat, for example. It’s cute and hilarious. Especially when he randomly starts talking about the Ocean.
I think my pizza is ready.
I love pizza.
I’ve decided if I’m going to gain ridiculous amounts of weight with this pregnancy without even letting myself turn into a human garbage disposal like I did with my first pregnancy (and gained next to nothing, by the way) then for the last couple of weeks, I’m gonna ham it up. Why the hell not?
I can worry about carbs and calories again once I’m postpartum.
Wait, postpartum spits me out directly into the middle of the big three. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas.
I think I decided to do an RTT post so that I wouldn’t have to compose a post that disguises the fact that I’m really, truly, a boring person. I think I’ve achieved the opposite.
I bet my two year old wonders why his parents never remember where the fishies live. They live in the ocean, mommy. The ocean. Ocean. Why are you laughing?
I’m going to stop writing before I lose all three of my readers out of sheer embarrassment. It’s okay, you guys. Just click here and you’ll be safe again.