I can breathe again. And this morning I talked to someone who didn't say "god, you sound awful," as we conversed.

Tomorrow is my youngest baboo's birthday and he'll be a teenager. He's been one in body and mind for a while, of course. And he's been taller than me way too long. But. A teenager.

He didn't even NOTICE that tomorrow's his birthday. I had to point it out. I wonder if I hadn't how much time would have passed before he'd say, "heeyyyyy wait a second.. . . What date is it again?"

Then the next boy birthday is in about a week. Busy times. But not nearly as busy as it was almost 13 years ago.

Thirteen years. God. I remember sitting on the hospital bed. Leslie was there. I was thinking I couldn't make the two mile trip from the hospital to home without dying. And back at home there was a toddler and preschooler waiting for me. And my husband had 1.5 jobs at the time, both about an hour from our house, and so he was gone from 5 am until 10 pm. Oh, and I had to write an issue of the motherfucking Kids News in one week or get in big trouble. God.

How do you people with babies do it? I've forgotten.


  1. How do people with babies do it?

    God only knows. I know I'd better try to figure it out in the next six months or so. :P (All I can say so far is thank God for helpful spouses/partners!!!)

  2. I think it's about as cool as can be that you've got a bun in the oven. Amelia must be thrilled.

  3. Heh. Thanks, Kate. :) We're pretty darned excited, too. The kidlet is over the moon, especially now that we've found out it's a girl-bun. (She is dying for a baby sister.)

    I'll let you know how I manage to (not) keep it all together when the time comes...! :P


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