embarazada

sometimes, i can see chase thinking...

"we have coffee, we have cream... why can't we make our own kahlua?" this is the old argument, which, while perfectly reasonable under the guises of "change our own oil," and "paint our own house," becomes increasingly problematic when it veers into "pickle our own cabbage," and "recycle our own wastewater." both of which have been discussed. i think chase would harvest his own salt if we lived on the beach.

speaking of which, i can't wait to go to the beach.

i'm a full-fledged nanny now, and it's honestly pretty strange to have sudden authority (ha) in a situation where you're really just a random person in their house until their parents get home. these are smart kids, and most of the time i'm just terrified they'll realize i have no reason to be there, and stop listening to me.

me: "don't go outside..." (door opens, he leaves, door closes) "...for too long"

i just have to remember my days as a vicious camp counselor, my mighty tread on the cabin stair eliciting immediate silence and feigned sleep by 10-12 year old girls everywhere.