This was not the post I wanted to write today. No, that’s more of a public (er.. pubic) service announcement. Instead, what I wanted to say was….
Today LB and I had a fantastic day. Today we got to meet someone I’ve known for over a year. Someone who moved from Kentucky to Seattle six months before we moved up, has the same age toddler, the same freakin’ car, and probably about every other minute detail of life (oh! Like her birthday is a few days after mine) in common with me. She’s like me but with a Brittish husband. So she’s me but she spells favorite favourite. Like, how cool is that?
I’ve read her website for over a year now. When she moved to Seattle I emailed her and said, “OH MY GOD! WE ARE MOVING TO SEATTLE! Want to be my friend?” and when she didn’t hit delete without sending me some lovely email back I figured I’d make her my new favorite. Then when she actually agreed to meet us in person she got promoted to sainthood. THEN when she suggests a super fun bouncy place that wears kids out and almost-guarantees-a-nap-or-your-money-back I could’ve kissed her.
But I didn’t. And no, there are no pictures.
But the kids did have fun and I got to slide down some kick ass slides. It wasn’t until I had been bouncing for some time before I realized it said “No Pregnant Women” on the side of the bouncy thing. Well, duh. Now doesn’t that make sense? See, #2 gets hardly any paranoia. I lavished paranoia on LB in utero (and out) and here I am bouncing all over like pregnant boobs without a bra.