Let me preface this by saying that I am not a scrooge. I love this time of year. I like dressing up and going to holiday parties. I like overeating and overdrinking. I like buying presents for my friends and family. What I don't like is buying a present for your baby. I'll explain.
One by one, I read the complaints on Facebook. Everything from "This is my second least favorite day of the year for baby Lucy -- my first is springing ahead," to "Daylight savings was invented by a man who never had to deal with a toddler," to "This is seriously messing with my kid's nap time." To which I say, what the eff are you crazy people even talking about?!
Some people think handing out candy is fun. To me, it's just plain annoying.
Yes, my ovaries shriek a little when I walk into a Baby Gap and pull out the tiniest sundress that is so precious if it were 40 sizes bigger, I'd totally buy one for myself. I dig baby fashion. With one giant exception -- and it's not Crocs.
I just don't think "I'm pregnant" qualifies as a decent excuse to never call me back -- because you're not on drugs. You're just pregnant.
While you were enjoying your cul-de-sac barbeque this weekend with 89 of your neighbors' precious children, I was in Las Vegas, enjoying one hell of a fabulous single girls' weekend. It was all to-die-for, except for one BIG bump that really killed the scene.