If I’m not pregnant (I’m not), how do we explain my shortness of breath, over-emotions, forgetfulness, and very clear skin? HMMmmm? clear skin is great, but everything makes me pant
I’ve called them “nips” for so long that when Christopher said the full word, nipples, it hahaha shocked me
when the reality: “nips” is more shocking than “nipples,” of course. I’ve rewired my brain to be 8 years old instead of 33
How much obsession is too much obsession with regard to my son? Malachi is 1 year old and I (still) spend majority of the day 6 inches from his face
(I’m not pregnant) but trying to think of a girl’s name for second kid is tricky because I’ll meet someone with a NOT EVEN GOOD name but a very beautiful face and I just want to replicate her(?!). so I’m text messaging Christopher really bad name suggestions, then looking at them later and only then realizing how bad they are.
does that make sense? beautiful women have always had a power on me.
some name examples I’ve texted recently: Amaka (a beautiful Nigerian woman I met at a baby shower)
Israel (a beautiful country and also could be a girls name)
Enola (“alone” spelled backward, but also a character in a movie I enjoyed)
Mila (Mila Kunis)
Christopher said the sentence “My wife is in a wheelchair” and it just made me PROUD. I don’t know why, but PROUD
I didn’t drink enough water with a pill I took 24 hours ago and it has been haunting my whole weekend. TAKE A LESSON
My biggest accomplishment and JOY right now in motherhood is when Malachi eats food I cook/prepare/warm up/had the idea for. Literally anything as long as he eats it, no matter how healthy or not. Today I celebrated “Christopher, look! He’s eating a butter croissant!” Yesterday’s joy was peas and carrots, but before that was “Christopher, come watch the piece of sugar cookie!!!”
My bad (destructive) habits have taken a new level: I feed Malachi, he leaves CRUMBS pretty much on his plate, I eat what he doesn’t, I forget to eat real food. Yesterday I ate breakfast, 2 cheez-its (gross) and 3 half-strawberries for lunch, then skipped dinner. But I’m fine, I’m not hungry? I need to be monitored?
— maybe contrary to what you’d think — I love saying “no” to Malachi because he actually listens (where Achilles completely ignores me, not even a glance). So I’ve gotten carried away, maybe? I say no to lots of things, just as a test!!! pass
Once I was signing a book for a guy who I was friendly with, see all the time, and should have known the name of (but didn’t). He asked me to personalize it to him, so I pulled the “ah, remind me how to spell your name again?” trick [to get away with not knowing it]. but then he said “My name is Bill” Then he spelled it for me hahahaha. I’ll never forget him or his name again, but it’s too late
Seeing pictures of my old friends hanging out together and not caring at all is drug-like.
(meaning really good. I describe anything that feels good or makes me happy as drug-like because I don’t know what drugs feel like but I assume they’re good? probably not, though)
Lying in bed last night, I realized that I skipped lunch and dinner yesterday. and I was 0% hungry??
dawg, how am I still ALIVE?
(we’re either very impressed with or kinda concerned about me. Don’t worry this isn’t a habit. you can be impressed.)
NOTHING I mean nothing makes me happier than Malachi eating food I make him. (I’m suuuuch a bad chef and) I know a cheese (and also a separate guacamole) quesadilla isn’t HARD to make but I made it and he loved it and I didn’t have to trick him. AND I had the idea for them both. joyful
I’m leaving the paint from last night paint night on my arms so if** anyone ask about it I could roll my eyes and say “OH did I spill? I’m such an artist”
hehehehehehe
Update I entered the office laughing to Christopher about how I looked and said “why didn’t you TELL ME I look like this?” He said “it’s not bad. you just look like a mom.”
- get yourself a man with low standards
Today I put my hair in a bun to brush my teeth then just left it in all day. It felt messy but cute, in a disheveled-movie-star kind of way so I didn’t look in the mirror until now. It’s almost 9pm until I looked at it and HAHAHA. My post-pregnancy-hair-loss short hairs are sticking straight out, my mascara smudged like a raccoon, the “bun” is a knot. I look like a rat, actually a rat. It’s only hilarious since I’m already married!!!!!
I’m paralyzed, can’t feel hardly anything from the mid-torso down. Someone explain to me why wearing no pants is infinitely more comfy than wearing pants. Is it the psychology of it or what
Achilles was barking her head off at a neighbor walking past our house. She doesn’t listen to me when I call her name or try to discipline her, so I thought it would be easier to just hide behind a column on our front porch instead of telling her to stop? But me + my wheelchair is KINDA TOO WIDE so she saw me sticking out of either side and said “hello there.” Hahahahaha I can’t do anything in secret with this thing
