Cinnamon Bun in the Oven

I've been feeling a little...off lately. It's been going on for a few weeks now and I can't quite seem to figure it out. I feel irritable, hormonal, overly sensitive, squishy (can you feel squishy? Because I do) and my stomach seems to be expanding (that's where the squishy part comes in).

So I did what any logical, completely hormonal girl would do. I took pregnancy tests. Two of them. Just in case I peed too hard on the first one to make it malfunction. I really had to go when I took it.

Seeing as we had to go through fertility treatments in order to have Landon, I would have been incredibly surprised had I actually been pregnant but stranger things have happened (see: Kim Kardashian's decision to record a song). So I'm not pregnant. Turns out I've just been eating way too many desserts. Or I have a chocolate chip baby growing inside me.

I call the left foot!

It's funny how we always refuse to accept the simplest of answers. And by we I totally mean me and me alone. Ache in my elbow? It's broken! Migraine? Brain tumor! Cell phone bill too high? Landon has learned how to read, write and become incredibly nimble with his little sausage fingers in order to send out hundreds of texts this month! Belly a little flabbier than normal? My wasteland of a womb has spontaneously generated life!

Actually, the real aspect of all of this that I have refused to accept (other than having to relinquish one of my four nightly desserts) is the fact that I was a little sad when the tests read negative. Those sad little single lines just looked so lonely. Kind of like my son.

But could it be? Could I really have experienced the "mommy veil" where suddenly the bad stuff slowly disappears from your memory and all you're left with are the tiny little socks (awww, sock...) that they wore when they were newborns? Up until recently I swore that veil didn't exist for me. My travails were veil-less. Or so I thought.

But has it happened? Could I really have forgotten waking up every two hours (or not sleeping at all)? The feeding, burping, changing, then starting all over again? Trying to figure out schedules, praying that the baby will sleep longer than 20 minutes? Schlepping that massive car seat around that cuts off circulation to the crook of your arm? The crazed hormone fluctuations of pregnancy (How could you say something like that? It's not what you said, it's how you said it! You don't even love me anymore! I need chocolate!) (Actually, I don't think this part never went away) (Because I may have said something similar yesterday).

No. I have not forgotten any of this. I just don't seem to be bothered by it as much anymore.

Uh oh. I don't like where this is going.

Please Don't Punch. . .Our Car

If only all history could be told through the eyes of kids. Textbooks would merely be filled with stories of countries flinging water bottles at each other and yelling, "Hey you weirdos!"

I can't wait to relive my own life through my kids. Hopefully it will sound way cooler than it actually was.

My favorite:

Shameless Self Promotion

Sometimes no one can promote yourself quite like...yourself.

Here's the latest article from Columbus Parent Magazine. Yes, it's kind of a downer topic (hey, we can't all write about pink butterflies and cherry blossoms, now can we?).

I feel so fortunate to have had the opportunity to meet the people I have interviewed for these stories. Every single family and expert has been extraordinary and wonderfully helpful and I have learned so much from each of them. It has restored my faith in "people" because for awhile there I loathed them. As anyone who has ever worked with "the public" will attest.

A special shout out to Dr. Burnett and his wife for allowing me to interview him in the middle of a dinner party. Because nothing gets a party going quite like talking about SIDS.