This weekend has been brought to us by the letters P. M. D. D. (Gotta love getting to the end of the pill pack).
Yesterday was my best friend's baby shower. Yes, a baby shower.
Now, let me explain: Babies and little kids freak me out. I went to my friend's daughter's first birthday last summer. Cue the panic attack! There were kids everywhere. I sucked it up, and had cake before making a less than graceful exit. I had a similar attack before the shower. In the middle of Wal Mart.
So now it's mother's day. All over the country are waking up to breakfast in bed, flowers, and candy. They all feel special. That's something I'll never feel. I'll never feel special.
And it only hurts on days like these.