I am 800 months pregnant with our 4th baby.
It feels that way, anyway.
The Spouse told me this morning that I could just keep being pregnant for, you know, forever and claim to be the ULTIMATE attachment parent-er.
For some reason, I do not find this funny.
So I'm trying to pass the time by doing fun things with the other children, who are blissfully oblivious of the trainwreck that is about to become their summer. They keep talking about going to the pool and going camping and, you know, leaving the house. Ever.
We are roasting hot dogs on little grills at the park (a painfully slow process), skipping around our backyard catching fireflies, and planning family campouts. Well, to be more accurate, my kids are. I am mostly lying next to the box fan eating a whole stack of generic otter pops.
We all have our standards.