College/newborn baby, it’s party time!

My baby growing continues. 16 weeks. Yes, I’m counting the days.

Before I got knocked up, I thought pregnancy was counted in months. Now all I hear are weeks. 40 weeks. That’s a lot of weeks. I ask Captain,

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I’m getting ready to go to college.”

“College? Can I blog that?”

“Yeah. I know things are going to be really different, but I’m not sure exactly what it’s going to be like.”

“Except this is a little bit longer than a 4 year commitment.”

“Yeah.”

“And if you don’t like college you can always just quit, but we’re gonna be stuck with this kid forever.”

“Yeah.” Captain is looking worse. I tell him,

“I was really excited to leave home for college.” I was excited for freedom. Now I’m excited for a lifetime of responsibility. Or my best attempt at it.

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Senior year of high school wearing UMass hat, shirt, shorts, sweatshirt and socks. It’s getting exciting.

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The excitement has worn off.

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I graduated. Success.

 

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Good Times with Jess is knocked up

I have bad news for you. Not only are you reading a mommy blog, but you’ve been reading a mommy blog for the last 3 months. They tell me a baby will come out of me July 10th.

My birthday is in July, so I told the fetus it better not steal my birthday. Don’t worry, it can hear already.

I asked my friend if my blog should change it’s name. She said,

“No, the mommy part is just a continuation of the good times, or end of.”

We’ve had a couple ultrasounds. It’s like a bad, black and white, silent movie. Captain and I stare at random objects on the screen, one of which the doctor tells us is a fetus. Captain declares,

“It looks like a blurry blob.”

“Yeah.”

Captain adds,

“It looks like me.”

Blurry Blob the Fetus looks like Captain. So be it. At some point we’ll have to think of another name, but Blurry Blob is good for now.

Will Blurry Blob need extensive therapy because I’m blogging about it? Maybe. I’ll let you know.

So if all goes well, Good Times with Jess has replaced babbling, thirsty bar regulars with one babbling, thirsty, tiny person. The mommy blog begins. You’re welcome.

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