Sorry, Cliff

It had to go. About 10 inches of hair hit the floor today. How very liberating. Clifford, I did put it off and think twice, but in the end, the shears won. If it makes you feel any better, my child cried and screamed when he saw me and clung to his Papa for dear life for what seemed like hours to me. He was not a fan of my new do.














In other news, my HCG levels were at 41 today. Which means that I'm pregnant. The nurse says reassuringly, "That's a good number," I guess because I don't sound very excited over her congratulatory call. It's hard to get excited about that when I was just telling everyone last month that I was pregnant. Then not. It's all becoming rather anticlimactic.

Humph. I'll believe it when - well - I was trying to pick a week, but I can't. Eight weeks? Twelve weeks? Twenty-four weeks? Who knows. Right now, I'm hopeful and scared. We would like for this to be a baby that comes along into our family say, Octoberish. But still. Humph.

Maybe, Baby.