You're not seeing double: Halloween redux

OK, NaBloPoMo, I'm in. I have a love/hate relationship with you, but I am taking the challenge to post every single freaking day this month. And like every other post-Halloween mama, I'm exhausted, overbooked and desperately needing a massage more than additional time in front of the screen. So I will be NaBloPoMo's host, but only because I'm starting off by serving up photos rather than a delicious tray of piping hot, homemade words. Dig into some Halloween redux:

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KA-POW! It's not just a costume, people. It's a way of life.

Lil E (with sidekick Bobo the Monkey...pshhh, Robin? Who need Robin?) gets geared up for the preschool parade.

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I admit it, what the laser guy told me zapped my spirit a little. And (gasp!) made me question my MAC lipstick.

Once upon what seems like eons ago, I loved being pregnant. I loved feeling the stirring and seeing the feet move across my belly. I loved knowing my body was capable of growing a brain. My whole life I'd known I was going to be a mother, and when it was happening, I loved the anticipation of what would come next.

What I didn't love was smelling the garbage can from my kitchen a mile away. I didn't love taking seven steps to turn over in bed or needing to be hoisted when I got lost in couch. I didn't love how crabby I got when everyone else had a cocktail and energy and crazy sex and feet that fit in shoes when my body felt like more child than woman.

I also didn't love the rashy skin condition I developed when the hormones and increased blood supply overtook the oxytocin EEEEE of being pregnant. I've made my way through three dermatologists and every skin-peeling potion they could prescribe, an ayuvedic skin guru and basket full of supplements, oils and herbs that she advised. I've gone rogue in Sephora, the drug store aisle and even online. Nothing has made this rash go away and every time it returns, it scars my arms and back.

Badge of honor? My ass.   

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