Sometimes I think about the girls, you know, before the babies arrived. All high and perky and stuff. But then I think about myself before the babies, and I can’t really relate to “life before babies” me anymore. Then I take a deep breath and accept that boobies after babies… they’re not so bad.
Despite the change in address (they’ve def moved a few blocks south) they’re still in a respectable neighbourhood. And really, considering what they went through, or what we went through together… I can’t really complain.