"Kaden, where's the baby?"
"Where's the baby?"
So I point at my bulging midsection and let him know-
"The baby is right here. There's a baby in Mommy's tummy!"
He then walks up to me and points his tiny finger directly at my derrière.
".... Touche, tiny human. Touche."
Husband has been outrageously nice about my physical appearance. Most of the rest of humanity has too, continuously asserting that my over 30 pounds gained is most definitely confined solely to my midsection. (As if I'm going to have an actual 30 pound baby. I don't want to have a 30 pound baby. I don't want to MEET a 30 pound baby.) So everyone's been very kind. But children, well, they're honest.
It's been a busy last ... year, honestly, but it's starting to wind down. I have a superb staff working under me who is taking over more and more of the job so that I can spend more time in bed as God intended. I have 4 weeks left before I am allowed by law to ignore my job and all of its responsibilities. We've moved our office into our bedroom and our daughter into the office.
|Yes. I'm proud of this work, this painting, and this room as a whole. |
It was a lot of work and I think it looks good and I am proud. So, take that.
I've also started to crochet a blanket for myself (something I've never done before). It's going supremely slowly, but now I HAVE to get it done before baby boy dos comes along, as I also need to do one for him because that's a rule I've created for myself, and if you can't follow your own rules, then what good are you, anyway?
I tried to take a picture of the blanket to show you how it's coming along. It's brown and tan an aquamarine, and it's not the softest in the world but it's thick and chunky and will be nice this winter, I think. If it's finished. And it will be. Anyway, I tried to take pictures, but the kids noticed, so the photo shoot... changed. To something more like this:
This series is called, I had to go help out the boy with some stuff, and someone SUPER enjoys taking pictures of herself.
That was 7 out of the roughly 50 pictures I found when I came back to my computer 5 minutes later.
I finally got a pic of blanket, by throwing it over my daughter's head. She thought it was a fair compromise.
So as it happens, if we count today, I only have 9 more days left of my 20's. 9 more days left of a whole decade. In 10 years I've graduated twice, gotten married, bought a car, two computers, and then a house, and I've had almost 3 kids. It's been a pretty wicked awesome decade, and maybe that's why I'm so loathe to leave it. And although I have a feeling the next decade won't have as many listable life events in it, I've got some pretty strong hopes that the 30's totally kicks the 20's ass. Take that, my youth.