Thirty-one weeks? Mark this one as the week where my brain turns to mush.
Esther Bester (her nickname… one of many).
No more pancakes. Ever.
The hunt for addresses.
Hall closet is purged!
“Brian, what is this? Do we need it?”
No straws during the pregnancy. Takes too long. Too thirsty.
See the light.
Prayer for friends and family.
Need to love.
Love does not equal professionalism.
Love does not equal politeness.
Love is more. And intentional.
Tired. So tired.
Where did August go?
Where did my toes go?
Tons of movement.
Good night, except it’s the morning.