My baby ticker says 26 days.
This means that anywhere between now and 26 days (please god, not longer) I will have to go through labor. LAY. BOR. This baby has to get out somehow. And the way babies come out isn't a picnic. The first time, I was shocked and unprepared. This time, I know what happens. And I don't like it, not one bit.
On another note, here are some new sentences from the boys that Todd and I have been enjoying lately:
-"Mommy, get OUT of my ROOM!"
-"Daddy, go AWAY!"
- "Uh oh, I dropped my golf ball!"
- "Mommy, get OUT OF MY ROCKING CHAIR!"
- "No, Mommy, I don't like fish sticks, I want waffles!"
- "Hi Daddy, did you get donuts?"
- "I WANT TO SLEEP IN MOMMY'S BED!"