- Let my child use a life jacket at the pool (near-drowning is how you learn to swim)
- Buy my child hot chocolate at Starbucks
- Go to Disneyland (we will go to Yosemite, dammit!)
- Get annoyed when my toddler asks, "Why?" 1,000 times a day
And here we are, chillin' at the park, 17ish weeks pregnant (these are from a few weeks ago).
And if you are looking for a laugh-out-loud read, check out Letter to My Pregnant Childless Self. Here is a quick excerpt that cracked me up:
While we are on the topic of useless shit (pun intended) that you are obsessing over, it seems as though you are sitting around wondering if you’ll poop on the table during delivery. Guess what? When the time actually comes, you won’t care if fecal matter ends up on the ceiling as long as they get that baby the hell out of you faster than a teenage boy gets off on the latest Victoria’s Secret catalog.
Oh, and that book you’re reading on natural birth? Quit wasting your time with it and pick up a copy of What the Fuck Do I Do with this Baby?
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