2 years later and this is still my favorite painting. I can hardly call it a painting because it was mostly done in chalk, on wood; the effect was soft and beautiful. I wish I knew the person who ended up buying the original just so I could see it again. But I do have the capability to make a print, and this one’s totally going in my baby’s room/corner of the closet. I love red and white and I love lights and grungy circuses and I stinking love animals specifically elephants because they’re easy to draw.
I’m all sentimental and junk lately. I cry over almost every movie I watch, including–but not limited to–“The Lorax”, “Willow”, and “Nacho Libre”. Don’t judge, you guys. The Lorax is just environmentally depressing, Nacho Libre has orphans who go without chips, and Willow…well, I can’t really explain Willow.
Laugh, maybe. But don’t judge.
I can’t wait for my baby to get here. I can’t wait. I. Cannot. Wait.
Of course I have a while before I really have to take any sort of action on preparing for him or her. I say that now, but the next 6 months will zoom by, and September will be here before I know it, and I’ll be hyperventilating over the thought of actual labor.
I’m really scared of it. Yeah sure I’ve got 3 kids already but I’ve been lucky. My worst nightmare is labor starting suddenly and violently and progressing at light speed and I’ll actually have to push this puppy out sans heavy-duty drugs. What could suck more?
Nothing could suck more.
Except for maybe if I was in my car by myself on the interstate. Or if I was at home by myself and the kids were all at school and the power was out because of the tornado barreling toward my house. Pretty hellish stuff.
Baby? Stoked. Labor? No freaking thank you. And now I think I’ll go back to thinking lovely thoughts about gentle elephants in the night.