Friday, August 10, 2012
So lately, I've been having small panic attacks. For example, yesterday I was at Target (because I'm already training on being a mom and spending my days running errands) when I thought, "What if I have this baby right now? What if my water breaks right here in front of this delightful display of baby swimsuits and the only people that can help me is the Spanish speaking family to my left and the creepy man standing in the baby clothes section to my right? And if I have the baby here in Target, does that mean I get a lifetime discount? Will my child only wear red shirts and khaki pants? Is this floor clean for a delivery?" I'm telling you I'm freaking out and terrified of leaving my home.
I just wish God would send down a small note that says, "In five minutes you are going to feel like you want to die. Best of luck." A little heads up would be fantastic.