Well, since my house has been full of misplaced appliances, men in HAZMAT suits, and scary plastic tents reminescent of E.T., and since my computer crashed and I've been unable to continue freelance work during the day (I worried I'd lose clients but so far they've been pretty understanding of my limited availability), I decided to clean out our filing cabinet and reorganize office materials. I thought this would take an hour. It took four. But that's a good thing because otherwise I would have sat on the sofa and stared at plastic-clothed men speaking other languages.
Little did I know our five foot tall filing cabinet held old pencil boxes full of wallet-sized photos of high school classmates and old letters from grandparents. It even held this treasure:
My mom! Pregnant with me and wearing ketchup red maternity pants! (Are they polyester, Mom? Be honest!) Eh. It doesn't matter; I happen to think she looks pretty darn good--and HAPPY. Yes, her eyes are closed but, unlike me, she didn't have a handy digital preview of how her image would go down in history. Me? I make Craig take and retake photos of my belly until I'm convinced the angle is right, the smile is almost natural, and my hair lies as good as I can get it. Here's the one he took tonight, at the end of my 28th week:
I'm sure one day my daughter will make fun of my clothes too, and I think that's okay.
By the way, everyone, Craig turned the big 3-0 today! This is his 14th birthday that I've been able to celebrate with him--almost half of his life I've been following him around pestering him to bring me water and make eye contact when I'm speaking. To celebrate, we ordered peanut butter chocolate shakes and drank them on the beach watching the sunset. We decided it was a little cool for that but since we haven't found a place specializing in peanut butter hot chocolate, we also decided we didn't care.
Happy Birthday, sweetie!
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