I stare at people.

So yesterday, Hunter took off work so we could have a family day in the midst of his crazy Saturday and Sunday class schedule and we took Parker to Discovery Place Kids. It's a children's museum but mostly geared toward babies, toddlers and pre-schoolers. It's pretty awesome.

Anyway...for those of you that don't know, Parker is a red head. And that day, there were what seemed like a dozen red-headed children running around the place. So, naturally, I was fascinated with them. Parker has a redish blonde color so it's pretty light. These kids were straight up gingas. Not even joking. It. Was. Insane. There was bright orange hair all over the place. It was almost as crazy as the time I was preggo with Parker and found myself in a store with dozens of pregnant women. Very surreal. Until I realized I was in Babies R Us and that probably made sense. This though....I can't think of a scenario where ginga kids, roughly the same age as Parker would all gather in the same place. So weird.

So I started staring. I didn't even realize it until I am sure I had been doing it for quite a while. People fascinate me. A lot. And two of the dads of these red-headed wonders had equally vivid hair. Intense. Hunter used to have Parker's hair color but over time it darkened. So, like every one else on the planet, if someone's situation differs from my own, it feels odd and the fascination kicks in. One of these dads caught me staring at him a couple of times. That was a little awkward. The first time I just smiled, pretending we accidentally looked at each other at the same time. Because, seriously, I'm not a weirdo. Ok, maybe a little bit. But I just love people. The second time he caught me looking at him, I could tell he was a little weirded out so I adverted my eyes and started staring at my own child. Real smooth. But what are you even supposed to do at that point? Anything else would have been way more weird.

I catch myself doing this all the time though. It's bad. People with insane hair, people with obnoxious clothing or make-up, people with any sort of defining feature at all....

I think I could sit on a bench and just watch people all day. I love the different ways people interact with each other but I especially love what people do when they think no one is looking. Most often, I catch them staring at someone else. This makes me feel a little less weird. Although it probably shouldn't.

Meet Mr. Pleasant

My firstborn child has a special side reserved just for me...and sometimes daddy. It's not exactly a side that I appreciate. Let's see...you know how when a cat kills a rat or something equally disease-ridden and leaves it as a present for you and you are supposed to take it as a compliment and not throw up? That's similar to what my little angel child does for me. Apparently when your toddler throws a Mcnasty fit so big that you are sure the neighbors are thinking about calling DSS,  it means that your child sees you as an authority figure that they need to establish their independence from. Not sure how much I buy that. But it's supposed to be true. The Earth was also flat at one time.

So now, in my full-blown, third-trimester of a ridiculously demanding pregnancy, my precious little baby boy won't eat the food on his plate, let me change his diaper without an intense wrestling match, let me take his shoes off OR put them on....it just keeps going so I'll stop for fear of ensuing boredom. Forgive me, medical world, but I am not taking this as a compliment.

The adorable thing about all of this is that I see it every day while his daddy sees it maybe a few times a week and anyone else would have been lucky to see it...or unlucky? I don't know. The logic part of my brain has been shut down for the next few months because I am growing a child. This is supposed to make sense but I don't know how because of what I've just told you. And round and round that goes.

Anyway...I am just not diggin' the fact that my child, the one with the humongous head whom I pushed out of my body with no anesthesia, saves up all of that toddler energy just for mommy. And now I have to go (as I type this with one hand) because my sweet child is screaming "NO" and pulling my arm. My house is like an oasis of peace.

We often get asked the question...

"How many kids will you have?"

Well, all of them. But more specifically....

That's a good question you've got yourself there. The answer: it depends on who wins.

Hunter has flip flopped between two and three with an occasional four in there. Once he suggested we might as well go for five if we are going to have four because what is one more at that point? I agree with that. But then I think his heart stopped and only his words taking it back started it up again. For a long time after that he talked about only one...too bad I already had number two in the oven, Bucko. Once his heart rate was kept at an acceptable pace for an extended period of time, he again went back and forth between two and three.

I am just slightly off from Hunter's desires in that I originally wanted ten. Since then, I've turned the corner from the '19 Kids and Counting' scenario and moved it down to six and now four. Four is where I seem to be staying at. It just feels right. But here's the deal. Twins and triplets run in my family. Yes: 'and triplets'. And that would be at least two sets of each. So while I pray to God to never give me triplets for fear of my sanity, I do think twins would be fun. Although, when I pray for big things like that, I think God laughs and says, "You can handle it, ya pansy" and then He makes it happen. Ok, maybe He isn't calling me a pansy. But He is at least thinking it. Meanwhile, I'm thinking that you can call me whatever you want. And I may even be a pansy. Just don't give me triplets after I already have two.

My ultimate scenario, should I be able to handle it without going completely crazy, would be twins on the next go around where at least one is a girl. And since I have total control over this, it makes since to make these plans, right? The things my brain spends time doing....

So I've started a blog...

Lately my brain has been pulsating with an obnoxious amount of thoughts, ideas, comments, etc. that really can't be put concisely into Facebook posts...no matter how compulsively I change my status updates. And really, if you have ideas that are so amazing that you feel you need to share them with the world, then what is the point of changing said status every few hours? Most of the these gems get lost in the Facebook shuffle. So I've started a blog. I could literally affect dozens of people with this decision. Dozens.

So welcome to the inside of my brain. You know, you don't hear that phrase enough.