3 Years ago, I wandered into the hospital to have my scheduled c-section. I was nervous, scared, excited. HE was finally going to get here.
HE being the name of the alien I'd wandered about for 9 long months.
We didn't have a name. I had a list prepared because I knew once I saw him he would look like one of those names.
He ended up looking like a Nicholas.
I broke out in hives from the c-section and spent 4 agonizing days in the hospital doing my best to get outta there! Too bad insurance COVERED 4 full days. 5 even if I wanted to stay.
I was eager to get home to MY bed, MY house and MY stuff.
So we brought him home to meet Rascal. He cried and Rascal barked.
And that was the start of 3 crazy years! My life will never be the same. I don't get to eat a hot meal most nights because I'm usually taking care of his plate (you know, the one stuck to the wall where he threw it) or cleaning spots off my already stained clothes (because the last round of chee-tos cheese didn't come off in the wash) or wiping finger prints off some surface in the house.
Now, we're potty training so its diapers all over the place and fights over big boy underwear.
He's so independent. Sometimes I think he's a 30 year old in a 3 year olds body.
He is tall.
He is athletic.
He makes me laugh.
He makes me cry.
He makes me want to drink on a regular basis.
He can be sweet one moment and a total devil the next. (The worst part is, he knows it.)
He is a ladies man!
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