What Bestsellers really do…

New Life Within

 

So for those of you who didn’t see me freaking this past weekend – Our book hit the bestseller list in Parenting, Family Relationships, and Motherhood. We are beyond excited. 20% of book proceeds go to the Gabriel Network to help women in crisis pregnancies. We’d love your contribution. Buy our book here…. New Life Within on Amazon

Enough shameless plugging. More to the facts on what happens after you hear this amazing news.

1. Dance with your newborn baby. Then each kitty. Then that normal guy. Then have them all stare, unpleased, at you while you dance by yourself.

2. Text everyone you know (even those who’ve lost touch with).

3. Retell everyone on every social media site.

4. Tell yourself you still need to get dressed for the day. And shower. And comb that hair – it looks cray-cray and bestsellers wake up looking refreshed EVERY MORNING so this is unacceptable.

5. Bake cookies for neighbors, co-workers, parties, and possibly even the dead (because you  always overbake).

6. Celebrate with a $5 pizza (bestsellers aren’t all rich, ya know).

7. Drink champagne by yourself.

8. Go back to the computer and work on your next project.

War Wound – The Boob Burn

War wound – the boob burn

Babies are magical beings. They have a way of screaming and getting whatever they want.

As adults mimicking their mannerisms leads us straight to a psych ward in a straight jacket.

As one of my newly acquired daily activities I was prepping new bottles by following directions. Boiling them in water before fixing one for Blair.

Exhaustion does not prepare you of warn you to be careful. You realize it’s hot water. You do not need to be told to NOT spill it on yourself – however being the tired and not overly cautious person I am – Crap happened.

Picture this:

I’m minding my own business. Waters boiled, bottles perfected and ready to be served room temp. All I have to do is retrieve them.

I look around for my protector. The end of a wooden spoon catches my eye – perfect! I can avoid burning the shit out my hands and get them dry with ease.

The wooden spoon handle makes contact with the inside of the bottle. I lift – not so carefully – thinking I have just the right angle to perfect my craft.

Then S-L-O-W-M-O-T-I-O-N hits as the bottle drops back into the water creating a massive tsunami that lands on the left side of my shirt. BAM it burns.

As a psycho I pull my shirt over my head and run to complain to that normal guy that it hurt like a bitch.

He laughs and says ‘Why would you do that to your boob?’

He also wises up and tells me to slap aloe Vera on it. And boy did I.

Today I have a war wound – three perfect circles on my First Class A cup. No, I will not so pictures – this is not a porn story.