I've accidentally put dirty dishes in the refrigerator, overbooked my poor husband and myself for different things on the same night, and said some pretty funny things, especially when I'm tired.
Seriously, if you could see me typing this, you would giggle at how many times I'm backspacing and correcting things.
Maybe it's God's way of humbling me.
Maybe it's my body's way of telling me to stop thinking so much.
Or maybe I'm going absolutely insane, and my poor baby will have a mom who can't finish sentences.
How is it that I feel completely out of it, yet simply blissful all at the same time? I am loving the fall weather, accessorizing with scarves and a large, round belly, and I even relish being able to experience every odd ache because I know a little baby comes along with it.
I hope he looks like Billy.
See? I'm rambling. I'll stop. Just tell me I'm not crazy, please.
PS - This is our life sometimes lately. Poor, poor, poor Billy:
Come back later this week for a very cool giveaway. At least, I think it's cool.