The Territory

Being a mother means...

• suffering right along with your child when they spike fevers of 104 and don't get below 103 for an entire weekend.
• persevering while said child is a total crankpot and only wants you to hold them and cuddle them, even if they aren't sure what that means and keep moving and readjusting every two seconds.
• trying not to grimace while feverish child attempts to get comfortable by resting their head on your chest, only they can't reach your chest because your ginormous pregnant belly can't allow them to get close enough.
• tiptoeing around your own house at 6:30 in the morning, pretending you are deaf, while your child calls out "Mommy! Mommmmmmy!" because, well, life rolls along.

Fortunately, LP seems to be better today, although she has stinky breath, despite frequent brushing of her teeth. Oh, and either she really enjoyed being a crankpot while she was sick or she has entered the terrible twos. Rock on!

And finally, my thought for the day, how cool is it that I have my own tray table that I carry with me (I can't even believe that my belly stick out as far as it does). And I still have seven weeks to go!