For the record, no, I'm not all sappy and emotional because I'm: a) PMSy, b) drunk, or c) pregnant. I promise, the correct answer to that one would be: d) none of the above. I'm just feeling all too aware tonight of how fast this is all going. Maybe because I thumbed through my hot-off-the-press blogbook #2 (Vivian's first year) and watched her go from new and tiny(ish) to big in the span of those 365 teeny days. Or maybe because we went to the library this afternoon and Anderson was not only well behaved but social, ditching baby sis and mama by the board books to play cars with some elementary aged boys. Or maybe it's my impending birthday. A big one, yall. Starts with a three and ends with an oh. (Oh, mah, gawd.) I don't know. All I know is my babies are big and in the morning they'll be even bigger and that makes mama's heart hurt a little.
(For the record, I do not ACTUALLY plan to sit around collecting shelter animals when my kids grow up, I plan to travel the world with my handsome husband and shop and nap a lot, because by then we'll have won the lottery. Just FYI. But there might be a few more animals, and by "might" I mean "duh, have we met, there will be".)
All right. Now that I got all that out, I'm going to go have my wine and watch Glee and wait really impatiently for Teen Mom 2/The Barbarasaurus Rex Show to start. You bettah get a LAWYAH, Janelle!