FRIENDS! It's been over a month since we've last, you know, and I hope it isn't awkward if I tell you I've thought about you every second of every day. Well, not every second. Okay, not every day, either. I spent the majority of my life putting groceries in weird places, sitting in the bath tub crying and cussing out my a-hole cats.
But in between doing those things, I'm thinking of you. Promise.
In case you're wondering (if you're not, stop reading) (no wait! come back!), I'm now 35 weeks (knocked way the hell up) and had my first glimpse of preeclampsia (for the second time in my life) at the last doctor's appointment. I'm swollen, my clothes don't fit (see: Homer Simpson belly sticking out of pants), and I go to the bathroom an abnormal amount of times in a one-minute period. This giant man growing in my personal space keeps getting more giant. We're almost definite he's going to come out with a handlebar mustache and Italian accent.
But so far, he's healthy (did I mention BIG?). And by the way I have to walk (WADDLE), if I sneeze right now, his little head will fall right through (my.parts.hurt).
And how is offspring #1 taking all this "Mommy can't do anything fun until the baby comes out" crap? Overall, she's taking it well. She's excited, ready to be a big sis and REALLY ready for me to stop whining about the various versions of gross I've been dealing with. I'm pretty detailed...
The only thing I've noticed is a little, tiny, itty-bitty stealing problem. Yes, STEALING. First it was small toys from different grandparent's houses, then my lipstick I found in her purse,and then...then she moved on to the big time. Her homies would be giving her mad props, yo. I went to pay for something. The money was gone. I immediately thought the hubs took it, but then I realized he'd never just take the money without telling me (or he'd get the look). So, I asked my Lilliface if she knew where it was.
Then I knew. It wasn't until I dropped her off at school I searched for not one or two--but FIFTEEN DOLLARS--around the house. Imagine my surprise when I saw this:
Now what does that say about me? Hrm...
Anywho. Right now, I'm off to tackle the disgusting lumps of cake (CAKE BALLZ) I fully intended on becoming beautiful pops. They're going into my tummy where that little Italian man will sprinkle crumbs all over my insides.
Tell me, how would you have handled a small person stealing monies from your wallet? And more importantly, have you successfully pulled off cake pops without medication or alcohol?