Best Laid Plans

I want to write this blog, because my husband, whom I will refer to as Papa Bear, and I just had a darling baby (whom we will call Baby Bear).  Adding this precious and confusing little person to our lives has caused happiness, tears, and many problems with my every day bodily functions that I never anticipated.  No one told me this would happen.  But when I mention these things to my close friends, they all say, "Oh yeah, I totally felt that way."

Well never again should any man or woman be blindsided about the crappy (and happy) times that come with marriage and making babies.  I am here with my Papa Bear by my side to educate you young grasshoppers and provide support for you older, more beat up grasshoppers.  I also happen to be a fashion junkie and having a little girl has really exponentially increased that infatuation.  She is my own little American Girl doll!  I must lay out a disclaimer:  I LOVE MY HUSBAND AND DAUGHTER MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THE WORLD.  I would saw off my arm for them, I would put my Louboutins in the disposal and watch them get ground into pieces if it would make them have a better day.  So even when I am angry blogging, just don't forget that.  It is ok to be angry, sad, insane, and whatever else you feel.  I know you love your family, just like I love mine.  It doesn't mean we need to like them all the time.

So let's see...  Where to begin...  Let's start with the marriage.  I met Papa Bear when we were very young.  We have known each other since we were 6, but were never high school sweethearts.  He was a party animal, I was a snob.  It was not until after college that we began to date.  We dated three years before we got engaged and then had a year and a half engagement.  This is important to say, because PB and I are the slowest moving couple ever.  We are planners.  Every tiny detail of our lives is carefully and meticulously laid out so we know exactly.  What.  To.  Expect.  At all times.  Baby Bear was no surprise.  We thought about it, prayed about it, talked to the doctor, and took every vitamin and precaution possible before ever hopping into the sack to make a baby.

Baby Bear was made on a vacation in India, one fateful night, I think in New Delhi.  Call me Fertile Myrtle because BAM! the first time PB shot, we scored.

From the second we found out we were going to have a baby, our carefully and meticulously planned out life became a tailspin of best laid plans gone awry, strange things that would only happen to me (not really, I am sure they have happened to you too), and horrible noises and smells that no husband should ever have to know his wife is capable of making.  Plans are for dummies, I am slowly realizing that.  The only plan I hope you keep is to read my next post.

Have a fabulous day!