Since I promised some poop talk

I feel I'd be remiss if I didn't update you all on operation baby cas. So, I'm going to give you a mini update and then not talk about it for awhile (unless the shit really hits the fan. Wait. Was that too gross given the title of this blog?) because I don't want this to turn into infertility central.

So, so far so good, although I'm told when you up your dose things get a little more interesting in the poop department. So yay for me in three weeks.

On a related note, although not as gross, a week in the sun and sand gave me time for some much needed reflection. What I came up with was that the delay in operation baby cas was definitely God's way of sayin' "Honey are you sure? You really, really like vodka."

And my response is "No, I guess not, so thank you for making me slow the eff down and take my time, this baby shit is serious."

I totally heart my life. I heart MC and I think what I love the most is our ability to get up and go on a moment's notice, whether it be to the beach or the bar. We have total freedom! We are so fun that it hurts sometimes.

And as much as my friends are convinced that because my momager has agreed to care for baby cas often, we will still have total freedom, the reality is we won't. Not unless I want some scene from "Teen Mom" erupting, which would be totally embarrassing because I'm far from being a teen, and so really I should be able to stay home and take care of my kid, damn it. Plus therapy bills are expensive and I know if I leave my baby kid behind to go to Aruba with my friends for a few days, that's some effed up stuff def. requiring a medical professional when said baby kid figures that all out.

Anyway, as happy as I'll be to be mom, that will, in fact, replace my title as bar fly, beach bum, shop-a-holic and all around party animal. At least for awhile.

So, it kinda makes me think, what was I thinking?? Which I think is what most pregnant people think when the stick turns blue, except since most people get preggers real easy they don't so much have have time to reflect and wonder about what they're missing out on. Me, on the other hand, I have plenty of time to be like "The hell?"

All this reflection doesn't stop the baby train, I'll keep on chugging. If we don't start our family now, it could be too late before we realize just what we missed out on — because being a parent, I've been told, is magical and even I know it'll be worth the title trade (and the poo) for sure.

Still, as long as I am chugging along at a slow and steady pace I needed to have this epiphany so that I never forget that every time I belly up to the bar, it could be my last.