My Next Post Will be Chipper

I have always subscribed to the Peter Pan Philosophy of Life. I never quite got the flying part down, but I was totally there in theory. When I thought about growing up, none of it sounded good. Not one thing.

That’s because I have the best mommy in the world, who cooks the yummiest food, takes you on shopping sprees, tickles your back 24/7, gives you presents, can always keep a secret, and who is always on your side. Really, who would ever want to grow up when they had a childhood like that?

There was only one (potential) redeeming benefit to growing up: No more acne. (And I didn’t even have any! Dang you, young Kieren!)

Well, then. It seems that my good luck has run out, because my face is a pizza face!!! Supreme pizza, even! Let me just tell you, I have white heads, black heads, third eyes, meteor craters, horns, red spots, and a crazy spider vein blotchy thing on my nose.

NOT OKAY. I understand that I am pretty good at growing things (hello, babies and peach fuzz), but acne is bad news bears. I’m already getting fat, performing nightly rituals to ward off stretch marks, and have contracted too-lazy-to-do-my-own-hair-itis (okay, that one was pre-pregnancy).

We do not need to add to this list.

Fetus, help me out here! I’m pretty sure you have guys on the inside (I mean, heck, you are a guy on the inside), so pull some strings (the figurative ones, not any that may be connected to major organs) and get rid of this acne for me!

We need a pregnancy glow and we need it now.

Yours truly, sans pizza face.  Also, I will be wearing this maxi dress all summer. 

(Get down with your big self!)