People, it’s cold, like downright frigid for me. I mean for real it is. I’m not making this up, as The BF typically would think given my persistent low body temperature state.

I’ve been putting off my walk with Murph for over three hours. And now it’s reaching do or die, because we’re pushing 4p.m. and baby and I ain’t walking an hour in the dark.

And here I am, back again at baby and quite frankly, the only real legit reason I’m walking, really is a totally vain one. Aren’t most things though that we do?

When I have multiple yogis telling me to do something and it’s going to be ahhhhhh-ammmmmazing and so good, you’re being such a good mother already and you can’t even imagine how much easier your labor and birth will be, I damn well do it.

Except they haven’t told me this face to face. I think I’d need to go to India or somewhere or some ashram or something for that to happen maybe? They just tell me on the interwebs and all my books. Which is good enough for me.

So I do it. So I can feel like I’m already a kick ass Mama and just so damn good at this Mothering Thing.

It’s more self validation.

Who cares that it’s only 26 degrees right now? What does that matter when I’m being such a good mother already?

A little cold weather be damned if that’s going to keep me down and huddled up in front of the space heater with my Snuggie on. That’s for after the walk, as my reward.

Off I go, out into the big cold outside world. For a whole hour. Which seems just foreeeeeeeever on a day like today, but I’m going to find something else to do during this hour, so it might as well be something good for me, right?

Of course.