She woke up and before she had spoken a word, she barfed. Then she kept on barfing for the rest of the day. She was unable to keep even clear fluids down and was getting weaker by the hour.
Do you recall my pondering the possibility of farming chickens so I could be assured that my meat was ethically raised and humanely slaughtered? But I wasn’t sure if I could handle the whole killing and plucking a
“So, did you still want me to take some pregnancy photos of you?” Angella chimed last night.
Whose idea was it to have a baby in September? See, having a baby in September means being mammothly pregnant in August and I am SO OVER IT.
Last night we were at a backyard birthday party for a friend and the hostess sliced me a nice, tall piece of chocolate cake. It was delicious.
One of the best things about being a parent is having to take generous licks of your child’s ice cream cone to keep the messy drips to a minimum.
It’s a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it.