Carolina Butler's

This past week, my nephew turned a year old. I can't believe he's no longer a tiny preemie infant that I was a little scared to hold, but a toddler who is independent, stubborn, and pretty fearless. I love this kid to pieces...so much that I shared my ice cream cone with him yesterday. Actually, he stole it from me, but he's so cute, I just let him have it (and I had another one in the freezer).

When I found out my sister-in-law was pregnant with Brayden, I went through an array of emotions ranging from "yay!" to "she beat me to it!" Christy had my niece at a young age, so getting pregnant with Brayden was like a brand new experience for her. And THANK YOU JESUS that she went through it before me or I wouldn't have someone to turn to share my deep pregnancy fears (mostly involving whether or not I'm already a bad mother because I don't like being pregnant to gaining a couple of pounds already and crying on the phone to her about it) or answer questions about which wipes are the best. She has done nothing but reassure me, encourage me, and validate me. So thank you, my darling sister-in-law. I promise not to cry during my lunch break anymore. :)

Which brings me to my next point...when do the hormones shut off already? I have been pretty even tempered this whole time (yes, there have been some irrational moments, I'll take credit for those), but over the past few days, the hormones have kicked in BIG TIME. And by BIG TIME I mean HOLY CRAP. The littlest thing can set me off on a crying jag that would make Tammy Faye Baker look like a sane woman. That's one thing the pregnancy books don't really go into about expecting...that you should EXPECT some hormonal insanity! Or that you should EXPECT your boobs to blossom into something both frightful and painful. I have given up hugging indefinitely, y'all, in favor of a handshake. Or maybe a nice wave!

Week 8 has been an adventure...and Week 9 begins on Thursday. Help us Lord.