First world problems.
A gaggle of garbage.
A spewing of mumbo jumbo.
I'm sitting here, propped up neatly beneath the covers of my bed, a laptop with a broken mouse balancing on my lap, an old episode of Glee on the TV serving as white noise, nursing a sore face from today's tooth extraction and waiting for that chocolate ice cream my husband promised me thirty minutes ago.
I'm tired. I'm hungry. My face is throbbing. And every fit of coughing has me two seconds from losing the little bit of dinner I was able to force down.
Really, I am a sight of loveliness.
This time of year always has me a bit homesick. Usually we're in the midst of planning our annual Mardi Gras trip home right now, but we've decided to forego it this year. Other events are taking precedence (BABY #4!) But I really just want a slice (heck, the whole thing really!) of king cake and a huge tray of crawfish.
Remy's nap schedule is completely screwed. Olivia has an attitude problem the size of the grand canyon. And Owen, well, I can't complain about Owen.
I received my first negative (and anonymous, of course!) comment on this blog a couple days ago. Not my first rodeo when it comes to people projecting their misery upon others via the internet. Comes with the whole territory of blogging. And big shocker, the comment was concerning the ever growing lump of cuteness in the belly. I wasn't going to acknowledge it, but they, whoever they are, had a semi-legitimate question.
Basically minus the derogatory nonsense, anonymous wanted to know why I felt it was necessary to announce my pregnancy as early as I did.
So let me tell you why, internet.
I understand that a lot of people like to wait until after the first trimester to start spreading the word. Just in case something goes wrong. I respect that.
But you see, a long time ago, in Jessica got knocked up as a teenager land, there was a girl who instead of being excited about her impending bundle of joy, spent her days embarrassed of the situation she had gotten herself into. But once that girl held that five pound, nine ounce baby boy for the first time she realized how silly she was for feeling anything but absolute happiness and vowed that if she ever had anymore kids (LOL!) that she would shout it from the rooftops with joy.
So that's why.
I truly think every pregnancy deserves to be celebrated.
I just wished I would have known that eight years ago.
But really y'all..I just want some damn ice cream.