This month has been crazy. I mean craaaaazy. With a baby on the way (who thought about showing up early for a bit) and the general chaos of family life, I wasn’t sure I would even have a chance to make it to Whole Foods to fulfill my monthly Blog Ambassador commitment. And I use the term commitment loosely. If I can write a post, awesome. If not, no big deal. It’s not always possible for me. It’s an hour drive, and I don’t often have business in far East Wichita. But yesterday, I decided to take the trip. I always enjoy going, and I wanted to pick up a few special things for our family Super Bowl party on Sunday. Again, I’m using a term loosely. By party, I mean the four …
Soon. Soon love will fill this corner of the bedroom.
The wee hours of the morning. That delicate span of time when either you’ve stayed up very late, or gotten up very early. My husband is the latter. He leans to kiss me in bed, my hour tousled unattractively against my pillow. I tell him I love him, words spoken through my lisp-inducing mouthpiece used to prevent nighttime teeth grinding. Baggy black sweats with holes in ever-increasing places sit across my hips, purchased when I was 10 weeks pregnant with my first baby. They’ve served me well. I wear a soft-because-it’s-old faded gray t-shirt, screen print of a sporting goods store cracked and disappearing on the front. It’s his. Just like this squirming life inside me.
I’m 36 weeks pregnant with our fifth child. Two are in heaven, …