Balls of Gas

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Cutie #1 at the Mall of America’s Crayola Experience. Apparently, this is how we pose for pictures.

This week saw some important, if not difficult, events occur. Our Cutie #1 completed his seventh rotation around the huge ball of gas some of us call the Sun, a huge ball of gas became our Nation’s 45th president, and I’m forty and pregnant… so gas all around. Political commentary complete.

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Another ball of gas

Cutie #1 has decided he prefers to celebrate his birthday with season passes to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, instead of the annual pilgrimage to Chuck E. Cheese. I couldn’t be prouder. He had to weigh pros and cons, and without pressure from his muggle parents, he’s taking us all to Universal Studios in Hollywood!

I.
Can’t.
Wait!

My body has been pretty well-behaved since Prince Charming was discharged from the hospital… I have been sleeping better, and my brain seems to be working most of the time. Wait— did I forget to mention my PC was in the hospital? Let me tell you one thing. I was not meant to be a single parent. I really don’t know who is, but it is not my calling. While most of our family would likely survive, I am so incredibly grateful to have my healthy(ish) partner back, and life is back to its chaotic rhythm.

26 weeks.

I am 26 weeks pregnant this week. In two weeks, I will have my 20 week ultrasound… don’t judge; life has been busy. So, at 28 weeks of gestation, we will have a level 2 ultrasound — you know, the super-duper ultrasound so we don’t have any “surprises”– euphemism for genetic conditions. I find this hilarious, since life is one surprise after the next, and I simply assume there will be surprises with Cutie #3, like with his older siblings. Why wouldn’t there be?

One thought on “Balls of Gas

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