Yeah, that’s my hair.  Long, bedraggled, gross.  I have great news.  I’ve made a hair appointment for next week!  I’m pretty exciting.  Nope, excited, but that’s how pregnancy brain works.

I’m sure you’ve heard about how Owen threw my phone in the terlet (that’s Mississippi for toilet).  I have to wait for Nick so that he can upgrade his phone and then I get his old iPhone.  In the meantime I’ve got the cheapest go phone you can buy.  No camera, predictive text, no contacts, good times.  Luckily AT&T has connected it with my phone plan so that so far this little toilet snafu has only cost 20 bucks.  The problem is that Owen has phone radar.  Two days ago he threw the phone in the cat’s litter box.  I had hidden the phone behind a picture frame on the side table, but Owen is an accomplished tracker… that and I had dozed off during Mickey Mouse Clubhouse…. so he had ample time to track.  Then he turned the phone off, and as I am a tech know-nothing, it took me an hour to figure out how to turn it back on.  And that’s all I have to say about me phone.