Shut Up, Self

So, yesterday.

I should probably take a deep breath before posting from now on. I should probably ask myself what the REAL problem is before deciding to get all maudlin. I mean, really.

Is it the several, consecutive bad-hair days?

The alarming lack of pants that actually fit for more than 4 hours?

Something that my brother Matt can be blamed for? (Probably.)

Everything looked better this morning, despite the piss poor weather. Spring, where are you, spring?

Hmm, I've been reading some pregnancy related old wives' tales, and if the first one is true, I'm giving birth to a wookie. My brother Matt and my cousin Jon will be the only two people who know how to communicate with little Chewie. Oh, and Matt? Don't read #7, you might "throw up," you big sissy.

T and I will be picking up our new car tonight. The car that we purchased based on safety ratings, cargo versatility, and the ability to avoid the side of the garage when backing up, rather than whether or not we would look cool driving it.

The car that we thought would be the best fit for our growing family.

Oooh, I get a little squooshy inside typing that. In a good way.