Greg suggested we tell the world about our pregnancies via a photo in Vegas at a craps table with the caption "What are the odds?"
This was the best we could do, in the lobby of the Bellagio.
Honestly, not only am I grateful to share the ups and downs and aches and pains and highs and lows of pregnancy with her, but I am grateful to share with her the entire adventure that is motherhood.
Our texts to each other--on a pretty much daily basis--are consistently on the same three topics: terrible toddlers, pregnancy miseries, and realistic advice.
Julia: Two-year old for sale. Cheap today.
Me: Let's do a two-for-one special!
Me: I cried for awhile today because I think I'm raising a terror.
Julia: Me too.
Me: I can only fathom eating french fries and coke. So that's what I just went and ate.
Julia: I'm so going to get that on my lunch break.
Julia: Luke found the vegetables I tried to hide in the mac n cheese.
Me: I've got a great recipe. Emailing you now.
Me: Will's fever won't break. What do I do?
Julia: Alternate Tylenol and ibuprofen every four hours.
I love my dear friend. I love experiencing all of this with her, and I don't know that I would be as sane as I am without her. I am most certainly a better mother--if not for the advice, for the ability to share and vent and not be judged. Wouldn't want it any other way.
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