> John brought in the mail. And in it is our little BRU ad we get. Which I usually love because I can peruse the sales and see what latest invention is that I must have for Zach. So I get the ad and I look at the damned thing and come to some painful realizations.
We don’t need crib bedding. Or infant carseats. Or strollers. I don’t need breastpump parts or supplies because my breastfeeding days are over. And look at that cute Boppy pattern! Wait! Zach’s too old for that now.
OMG it’s over. It came and went so fast. And I am so sad. And I would want another baby, but I know that one will grow up, too. Maybe I can be like that 19 Kids and Counting lady. And as soon as one is done nursing, the next one will be cooking. Except that I am not insane. Or crazy-religious. And I wear jeans. Skirts are for job interviews and funerals. So that plan is out the window. Plus there’s the whole my-uterus-does-king-fu-tricks-when-there’s-a-baby-in-it thing.
Okay, whatevs. I’ll be okay. Just hold me back from the ledge.
So on another note, last night I was bored and wanted to stay awake so I could sleep today before work. And I got on Twitter. Yep, Twitter. I had an account from where, years ago when Twitter first came out, a friend made me sign up. Nobody else was using it then, and so I still have the same pitifully low number of friends on there. But since all of my passwords are variations of the same thing, I was able to log on. And–OMG–I heart Twitter. Seriously. Facebook is full of my work contacts and family, so I am limited to what I can say on there. But Twitter??? The world is my oyster there. So if you tweet or twit or whatever it is called, look at the little badge thingy on the sidebar and hit me up.