However, as I lay here in my wonderful tempurpedic bed that we spent an insane amount of money on last year (and I'm really appreciating that we did right now), I can't get a particular image out of my head. I'm beginning to feel like one of Charlie's bedridden grandparents in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Any minute now I'm expecting Brandon to burst through the door and dance around the bed singing, "I've got a golden ticket, I've got a golden ticket...". I've got my camera handy, just in case.
Once again, I'm acutely aware of every twinge, cramp and gas bubble in my abdomen. I can't help but wonder what the 3 little squirts are doing in there. Hopefully one has decided to take up residence. I'm doing all I can by enduring the nightly shots that are supposed to be making the space more plush and inviting...shag carpet anyone?
