Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Evening Out the Numbers

Just a friendly game of "Let's Paint, On the Fireplace."

Afternoon Readers,

I promise I'm not going to turn into a twice-a-year blogger, but the past few weeks have definitely been trending thus:

Be pregnant.
Feel fat.
Gather all energy and throw it heartily at caring for children and excavating last serving of ice cream from freezer. (Possible cause of fat feelings)
Eat Firey Cheetos. (Also probably tied to feelings of fatness.)
Watch marathons of Fixer Upper and hope they accidentally come and renovate our house.
Watch marathon of Scrubs.
Wash, rinse, repeat.

I totally forgot how the first weeks of pregnancy, while worth it, wreak a special sort of havoc on one's motivation for pretty much anything. Until yesterday, I didn't want to conquer the world. I did not want to achieve anything. I didn't even want to put on pants. So I didn't. You what comes between me and my Calvin's? Really cheap underwear I walk around in and hope no one sees when I open the door to drag in whatever the UPS guy threw at our fiberglass porthole. 

I guess what I'm saying is, if you're pregnant right now, it's ok not to get all the things done. This is my third time walking the path, and I still haven't fully grasped that concept. But you know what?

....I love Firey Cheetos. I love their delicate, red dust. I love how spicy they are. And I love how they can dye your hands such a deep scarlet, it doesn't wash off before you go to church, and everyone there thinks you killed someone with your bare hands. Eh em.

However, late last night, I heard a little voice whisper, "Motivation, engage."

To which, I replied. "Ok."

For the first time in 17 weeks, I'm able to drink coffee. I have energy. The universe is pushing me in the direction of pants. Things are really looking up, and I'm looking forward to documenting yet another summer where everyone at the pool confuses me for a floating barge.

Time to get back to business. Time to move even closer to the release date of my new book. Time to go buy more Cheetos. But before I go, I have good news and I have bad news.

Bad news: There will be no betting on the sex of the baby this time. That's right, no free prizes, no one-upping each other.We had a lot of fun last time with all that, but, alas, no more.

The Good News: Aforementioned contest is canceled because we know, for a fact, Kellerbaby #4 is a girl.

The teams are finally even in this household.

Until Next Time, Readers!

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