Oh. My. God. Not only are the clothes on this site absolutely adorable, the babies are so cute I want to eat them. EAT THEM. Don’t click here if you’re hungry unless you have a baby somewhere in your life you can go gnaw on. You’ve been warned.

Speaking of hungry, I burned my hand fairly severely on the toaster this morning, because I was in such a hurry to get the bread for my bacon sandwich toasted. That’ll teach me to try and put the bacon on something besides my face.

When I got home from work my dog Brutus was sleeping peacefully in his crate. We don’t lock him in during the day anymore, since his desire to eat our furniture has abated. When he saw me he came out, wagged his tail, and waited patiently for me to open the back door. Brutus went out and watered my begonias, turned around, came back in and lay on the floor. Wow, what a great dog! I thought to myself. I am so lucky to have such a wonderful, sweet, well mannered dog, especially since I don’t have the energy to deal with a bad dog right now. I bet someday Brutus will save the baby from drowning, or alert us all to a fire, or tell me Timmy fell down the well just in time for Hugh Jackman to run in and save the day. (My mind is not well right now.)

Then I walked around the corner and right into the trail of chewed platic, half eaten styrofoam, bits of paper and God knows what else Brutus had dragged out of the trash can and strewn around the the first floor.

Stupid dog sure had me fooled. We should have just stuck with cats. I thought bitterly.

Until I got upstairs to find the cat had pooped on a pile of clean laundry.

I am worried two home pregnancy tests, two blood tests and a pee test were all wrong, and I am not really pregnant. I am worried that the baby isn’t growing. I am worried the baby will die. I am worried the baby will have a birth defect. I am worried the shampoo I use has chemicals in it. I am worried the water I drink has chemicals in it. I am worried the air I breathe has chemicals in it. I am worried the food I eat isn’t all organic. I am worried my baby will chew on the windowsills and get lead poisoning. I am worred I’ll get so hungry I’ll eat a windowsill. I am worried I won’t love my baby enough. I am worried I will love my baby too much. I am worried my husband isn’t as excited as I am. I am worried my husband will love the baby so much he won’t have room for me. I am worried I’m not eating the right things. I am worried my lack of morning sickness means something is wrong. I am worried I will gain too much weight. I am worried about stretch marks. I am worried strangers think I’m just getting fat. I am worried about exercising too much. I am worried about not exercising enough. I am worried about sleeping on my stomach. I am worried I will end up wearing mom jeans because nothing else will fit. I am worried I will end up dressing exactly like my mother. I am worried my cats will try to eat my baby. I am worried my cats will try to smother my baby. I am worried my baby will never like vegetables. I am worried my baby will like Hannah Montana. I am worried my baby will be a boy. I am worried my baby will be a girl. I am worried my baby is actually four babies. I am worried about doing to much. I am worried about doing too little. I am worried about quitting my job. I am worried about keeping my job. I am worried my boss will fire me for taking off too many days. I am worried my boss will fire me for reading pregnancy books at work. I am worried I will quit my job in a hormonal fit. I am worried we can’t afford a baby. I am worried painting the nursery pink for a girl and blue for a boy makes me a bad feminist. I am worried painting the nursery neutral colors like green and yellow makes me annoying. I am worried all the painting won’t get done in time. I am worried my husband won’t get promoted. I am worried he will get promoted. I am worried we will have to move. I am worried my worrying will give me a heart attack.