In other news, my sister is having a mother/daughter night at her church to celebrate being uniquely female. In the spirit of this fabulous event, I give you my list of reasons why it is fantastic to be a girl:
- I get to cover up my red nose with concealer and no one will call me rude names.
- Skirts and dresses are super-comfy, super-pretty, and super-easy on the figure.
- Girl talk. Talking about your feelings and laughing till you pee a little is cheap therapy.
- Being pregnant is the coolest. (This is merely an opinion, as some women find it horendous--and if you asked me at 8 months, I may have agreed. Although I think it's not so much carrying around the baby as all of the ways a body reacts to said baby. Examples include but are not limited to the following: water retention; gas; an undeniable need to eat 3 slices of cheddar cheese, one container of raspberry yogurt, and 2 pickles every night before bed; barfing all day; elephant cankles; unexplained internal itching that keeps one up at night because even one's face and the backs of one's hands itch; and a gall bladder that gives way.) Doesn't that sound awesome? Don't you want to go out and try it? Seriously, though, knowing that I was sustaining a brand-new person and feeling them move inside me was a sweet reward.
Taking a break from the list to mention that Punkin is so his mother's son. All I have been hearing for the past 15 minutes is a soft "ca-clunk" from across the room as he attempts to keep the doors to the toy cabinet closed with one hand, eat an apple with the other hand, and never take his eyes off of Mickey Mouse's Christmas Carol. The poor kid is doomed in his task; I have been trying for months to get those doors to stay closed.
Okay, the ADD won; the list is over.
Ca-clunk. Ca-clunk . . . Ca clunk . . . Ca Clunk.
We braved the negative 53 degree weather to pick up some molding sand at Toys R Us before heading to the mall for the much-needed smoothie. On the way out of the toy store, Punkin was carrying a bag of animal crackers (He asked so nicely and even tried to get me a bag of my own. Not sure if this was out of pure kindness or foresight--he didn't want to share.), was holding onto me with the other hand, and had his ducky blanket in his mouth. As we started climbing into the car, he said, "Uh oh! Duddy! Uh Oh!" I looked down, assuming he had just dropped it next to the car. Not there. We walked around looking, all the while he repeated, "Uh oh! Duddy! Uh Oh!" with increasing emotion. And there it was, about halfway between the door and the car. Now why on earth are you supposed to be excited about this story? Because he's BRILLIANT, that's why! He knew his bestest friend was gone and he used his words to tell me.
I'm being called to "Jump. Monna? Jump? Pease?"