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25 going on 40

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Okay Okay there is cinnamon chocolate chip banana bread in the oven. The apartment smells glorious right now all thanks to my rockstar self. I'm so glad I finally just sucked it up and made something of those dying bananas. Something that's going to rock my fluffy world.

Guess what - it's 25 weeks! And no, I don't have a belly picture for you.

Cause guess what. I come home and the first thing off is my bra. And then I just give up and pick my feet up. They feel so heavy after walking up and down the baby isles. I found a Baby Depot on the way home today. Here's to the next best thing . . .

A $70 diaper bag for $35. 
I could have peed my pants. (seriously, all it would take is for me to sneeze)
And that's how exciting my life gets these days.
It wasn't my #1 pick, but it was #2 and it turns out the price factor trumps.

My pregnancy:

"Mr Smith is dying because I am not feeding him"

"I have gone all day without a bra on. Wrong / very right"

"You can come clean up your pile of clothes." - Mr Smith
"But I just want to sit here and stare at this baby stuff" - Mrs Smith

"Is this the smallest size D you have seen?" - Mrs Smith
"I wouldn't know" - cashier at Target
"Yeah, me neither, this might be the only chance I can own a D" - Mrs Smith

"I know what can curb this bad taste - fruit snacks. Toss me some?" - Mrs Smith
10 minutes later...
"Ugh now my stomach hurts. I'm blaming it on you." to Mr Smith


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