Phantom Pregnancy

(This pic was too funny not to post.  Awkward
family photos anyone?)

A mere 6 days to go and James and I will be <host>parents.

Up until this point I have felt a random mix of emotions.  You may be well acquainted with them after reading my last two posts.   However, the emotion that seems to be growing and dominating the rest is this giant swarm of killer butterflies in my stomach.

It's that feeling you get right before you're going to play in a big game or run a big race.  Or for the non-athlete  - before you go on stage for your first big spelling bee or big speech.  That feeling of:  I have to puke or disappear to feel better.  Period.

Of course you know you want to get out on the court or track or up to that pulpit and you want to shine and you're sure it's going to be great when it's over....but right now, while you feel sick and terrified cause this is getting REAL...in this moment you think..."WHY DID I EVER AGREE TO THIS?!?"
I am insane.  (This is a statement of fact, not hyperbole.)

It should be noted that butterflies take many forms and there is definitely some of that Christmas morning excitement mixed in too.  I just find it hard at this point to determine what percentage of that sick feeling really is the excitement versus the terror. 

Allow me to share something else that's quite strange.  I think the thought of hosting has given me a "phantom pregnancy."  No, I don't know if that is a "thing".  Here are the facts: I knew I had to sleep twice in the middle of the day yesterday or I would literally DIE, My stomach itches and has little red blotches, I am a moody nightmare, and my stomach is bloated like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day float.

(Upon further research I have just discovered that phantom pregnancy is real and that men can have them too:  they are called pregMancies.  Awesome.)

Some of you may be thinking - those symptoms just sound like normal Shauri to me.  Well...yes.  Fine.  I guess it could be.  But.....but, it also could be a phantom pregnancy.  You have to give me that.  Just, you do.

Since I am sharing all kinds of personal things, I feel inclined to share one more, even though I know it could one day be used against me in a court of law.  Here it is:  I am already a bad parent.

How do I know?  I put up a bunk bed that I know may fall down.  It seems sturdy, and my nephew Max was kind enough to test it for us....but there is a chance it could collapse.  I did order the safety part that the company recommended after they (cough, cough) recalled the bed (we ordered it on ebay and found out this sad information during set up).  They say this will make it safe.  And so, I'm just leaving it up.  Because I have no other bed.  And I am a bad parent.  And I'm not even technically a parent yet.  This can't be a good sign.

My brother Ryan was kind enough to tell me about how his non-recalled bunk bed collapsed a short while ago.  His words:  "We're lucky Chloe wasn't in it at the time because it would have crushed her."

That's comforting.  In no way.
Although, I guess I should be comforted that my brother is a bad parent too and that it may be genetic making it clearly not my fault.  Yeah, that feels better.

I never knew how dangerous a bunk bed was.  Listen to me people.  These are the stories the media just aren't telling us.  I say, turn away from the fiscal cliff, back away from natural disasters my fine journalist friends.....talk to us about bunk beds.  The hidden dangers under our own roofs.

Six more days.  Did I mention that?
Breathe in, breathe out.  Breathe in, breathe out.  No one will die in their sleep.  Except possibly me.