Six Months

with The Chief:

With Ever:

With Squishy:

Squishy. That name is sorta growing on me. Squishy Schooner Kendrick.

Just try and talk me out of it.

Just try.

At six months I feel:
A lot of rolling and pollying.
Tapered nausea.
The beginnings of wanting to plan the ending
(home birth).
A resurgence of saucy-ness and vivacity.
Nightly nagging legs and feet.
Adoration for the children I have already
(were they always this dishy?)
Hot and sticky.
An unprecedented ability to be distracted.
What was I saying?
(lucky Chup.)

(And I do mean lucky Chup.)

Time to start planning! What are you going to wear?

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