Monday, September 11, 2006

losing track

I've been thinking about this. This here. This here web-log thingie. It doesn't really make a whole lot of sense. I tend to think that mom-blogs are boring and self absorbed, which is not to say that I don't like to read some of them (with stalker-like regularity), and wouldn't like to be (able to write) exactly like them. To be honest, I am totally in love with some of the dad blogs. They tend to be funnier and have a fresher, somewhat more distant perspective-- which is not a bad thing. A little bit of distance is good for the perspective. It's hard to see the beauty of a thing if you can't get past the junk in its pores.
But back to me.
I like to think there's more to me than my children, but pfft. As if. Also, I am terrified of the internet. You all are scary people. Scary people who want to eat my children, or something. I'm not really that interested in being honest, and I'm not funny enough (or, really, at all) for people that I am not related to to be interested in reading this. So. There you have it. There is no reason at all for me to be doing this. I mean, beyond the fact that nobody reads it but me.
And yet.
Here I am.
To tell you that my mom spent 60 dollars on baby socks this weekend. For my baby. That's due in...some number of days. I've lost track. 60 Dollars. On baby socks. This is big love. I didn't even force her into it. I mean, not really, although she may have seen how sad I was that I couldn't bring myself to spend $140 on a diaper bag that I totally don't need, or how I am so sick of unisex baby clothes. We both lamented how lame I am that I can not be like a regular fucking person and find out the baby's sex. Unfortunately, clothes shopping does not qualify as a justifiable reason to get another ultrasound for the Husband. Damn his good sense.
So. Yes. 15 days. We have socks so hopefully my nightmares about not being prepared are a thing of the past. And today I think the realization hit that I will, in fact, very, very soon, be responsible for three small people. Holy shit. Those poor, poor small people.

Ok, so if anyone really IS reading this and clicked on the second funny hoping for something, you know, funny, and ended up reading a September 11 post...this was not my plan. Mostly, he is with the funny. Please don't hate me.

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