Yes, yes I know I have been nothing but talk about baby. That’s because I want this child EVICTED. NOW. Surprisingly, I am rather comfortable at the moment. The crotch fire pains have subsided and I can now tell that the baby has dropped because I CAN BREATHE AGAIN! I have energy again too - so it ain’t all that bad.

I just wanna meet this baby already! Plus I have everything nearly completed for its arrival (except for a Moby wrap *sigh*) that it’s getting kinda boring around here. Boring enough to make me wanna shop and that’s just trouble. (speaking of trouble, just as I was writing this, I bought a new Ju-Ju-Be* BeAll diaper bag. Damn online shopping. Maybe it will come right as I’m in labour and Mike won’t fight me. Wishful thinking: he’s gonna be so mad. LOL)
Carter’s got the shopping bug too. I think its genetic. Since he’s been home from daycare (all of three days) he asks to go shopping. I ask what he’d like to do today and his immediate response is “SHOPPING!” - the kid will travel from store to store, sit in cart after cart and back and forth from the car if it means he gets to go SHOPPING! Gawd, I love that child.
Tuesday consisted of us going to WalMart for the last minute items for my hospital bag (nipple cream, pads, new pajamas: the necessities) and Carter insisted that he NEEDED a new car for his unending collection of vehicles from the movie CARS.

The kid has 12 of the numerous different styles and models of each character yet NEEDS a new one. The NEED is so strong its the END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT if there is not a new car to add to the collection. So strong that I WILL. NOT. hear the end of it if we leave the store without one.
[Who the HELL spoiled this child so bad? *looking around*]
Yet still I manage to leave (sometimes) then disarm him by bringing out Thomas the Train from my purse.
[Gotta love the fact that children have the attention span of a fly.]
What am I going to do for an entire year with this shopping accomplice at home? How am I going to be able to fend off the want to shop when I have a little voice in my ear suggesting INSISTING to go SHOPPING!!!!11!? (because it’s never requested quietly, it’s always in a screeching tone that I swear only dogs can hear at the highest decibels.)

























