J has this expectation that I am going to take his mother bra shopping tomorrow.
How much do I love this man? I am truly not sure I love him this much. I don't really feel like I should have to think about my MIL's breasts this much, or AT ALL.
Also. Please please please some one hire this woman. And find her an apartment. And move her belongings. Quickly. Because I want to grow to enjoy her and believe I will one day but that day is not today, because I am a mega bitch who cannot cope with so much togetherness. Also she puts garlic salt on everything. Probably even toast. HELP ME.
This child, she is not moving. Well she is moving but not out of her uterine abode. This is upsetting almost everyone else more than me. Now that I am not DYING from a cold and contractions I feel a little more patient. Not that I wouldn't welcome the little screamer but there is nothing to be done. I think J jinxed me by telling everyone that he would be STUNNED if I made it to the 20th. Welcome to the 21st Darling.