Evolution of a Mom

I haven't been around for awhile. I've let a few things slide. Ignored the guilt of not constantly engaging in this completely voluntary and optional and inconsequential endeavor. Like every good Mormon Mommy. But at least I've finally finished making learning packets for Landon's pre-pre-preschool program I'm starting with him, complete with glittery finger puppets and pop up pages of scripture stories.

And now I feel guilty because I'm completely lying to you.

In reality, I don't keep this up regularly because I feel like this:

Thanks to this:

 Combined with this:

Who, incidentally, has gained an alarming proficiency with this:

I'm not sure how it happened, but it may have something to do with the fact that, in general, all I want to do is this:

On an unrelated note,
I want to eat this:

Martha Stewart Image

And look like this:

I see nothing inconsistent with that. Let me reside in my hormone-induced fantasy world.




In my mind, I look like this:

Except instead of rising majestically from the sea, imagine it sprawled on the couch with various food crumbs adorning it's belly. 

But in all fairness, I'm sure I really just look more like this:

What? It's slightly smaller.

But pretty soon, I'll look like this:

Only my pouch will be a baby bjorn. Also, I think I'm missing another pretty important member of my offspring. Which will also most likely happen quite a few times. 

So, forget taking your kids to the zoo. Just bring them over here and see what creature I morph into each day. I promise not to scare them. Much. 

You can find me in my natural habitat:

Notice the lack of No Feeding signs. Just pointing it out.