Today is the day when everyone reminds me how special I am by writing on my facebook wall.
Now, I’ve been mistakenly telling people that I’m 27 for the past few months. The first thing to go is your memory, right? Either that or my math skills have greatly declined since freshman year of college.
It’s just so much tougher to remember your age when you get older. When your a kid, everyone asks, “How old are you?” It’s soooo easy! You get to practice your answer all the time and you can even give the answer using just your fingers.
Maybe I could use the 27 white hairs on my head to show my age. Or you could just could the rings around my trunk like a tree to determine how old I am.
Over the past few days, my age has really taken a toll on my mental status. I’m no longer in my mid-twenties (although Steve still claims he is in his mid-twenties when he’ll be hitting the big 3-0 this year…). I’m going to be a mom.
Okay, that looks weird.
I still haven’t fully grasped that. It just doesn’t seem real. After 16 weeks, I’m still not feeling the little one yet and I somehow have managed to stay -2 pounds overall since finding out that we were expecting. Aside from the mild nausea, I’m not so sure that the doctor isn’t trying to make a quick buck off of me.
Actually, the hormonal attacks sort of give it away. So, maybe the doc isn’t lying.
In any case, I’ve been feeling particularly old lately. I’ve even developed any interesting case of hives that mysteriously showed up on Monday. Normally the only thing that could make that happen would be this:
And although we’ve had a recent infestation resulting in many-a slice and dice occuring, these hives are from an unknown source.
Lack of chocolate?
Physical form of road rage being out of control?
I’m going to go with the second option and there is only one solution for this problem: DQ blizzard, which I have been craving ever since reading this.
And since it’s Rae-Day, I’ll be getting one. I’ve already given Steve the five-minute warning.