Observations

This is a snapshot of my brain this past week. Total mayhem, complete disorganization. Space-cadet, friends.

Socially there are acceptable and unacceptable things people should and shouldn't do while grocery shopping. For example you shouldn't walk around giving unsuspecting fellow-shoppers a detailed description of your congenital birth defect, unacceptable. You should shop purposefully unless someone is standing directly in front of what you want to buy, in which case you should pretend like you were actually looking for capers, not olives after all until they move along, acceptable.

It is socially unacceptable to push around a dysfunctional grocery cart. People talk. They point. They might even move away from the item you were after if you make your approach obnoxious and bizarre enough.
Because honestly...if you can't even get your buggy under control, you really need to think about taking some steps to get your life in order.

Waking up and getting out of bed these past 2 weeks has been like the daily resurrection of Lazarus as it has become an established ritual for me to die at some point during my early morning sleep cycle. At least, it feels that way, and unfortunately I'm afraid it's beginning to look that way as well. I seem to be showing a stronger and stronger resemblance to the Bride of Frankenstein as each new day dawns.

In celebration of the awkward bulge developing in my midriff I feel like tight shirts are in order. The more cling and grab the better. This is to more accurately accentuate the bloated beauty of this stage.

Sarcasm.

Can I have a burka please?

Jokes aside, the baby is doing great, I am content and wouldn't trade being tired and having an awkward bulge for anything in the world.

On that note... it is with great honor that I announce to you that Teeny Bean has now debuted two minuscule arm buds and two slightly less minuscule leg buds and a very substantial little cranium. We're making progress, baby.

 xo,

Rachael