In case that was the first thing you were thinking, as in, "Oh brother, here she goes with the more kids and the money for diapers."
I am, however, trying to fire up this blog and keep it running in an attempt to make some money (see ads above and to the side) to pay for the adorable and expensive issue of my former Getting Pregnant days. (Oh! to the Yes! to the Hallelujah! that they are over!)
(I mean, Delightful as they were!)
Kids cost money.
Lots of it.
Especially if you intend to have them do anything other than sit at the library and eat Ramen noodles like some kind of smart, fancy veal. After the expense of diapers and formula, they just get more and more pricey in ways that make you look back fondly on spending $15.00 a pop on plastic disposable pants to keep their poop off your furniture.
Do you know how much skate blades and piano lessons cost?
And with nowhere near the poop controlling features.
Unless you're playing Chopin.
So, anyway, along with some changes here at Halushki - look, feel, content, the addition of my significant other as a contributing writer - and the firing up (finally!) of my new children's book review blog (although, there's only a peanut butter review there right now), I'm going to be dredging up the five years of content sitting in my sidebar and posting a Blast From The Past each Sunday.
Some of those blasts may be about me being pregnant.
Which I am not.
So don't send me diapers.
You can, however, check out the ads, buy some books and crap when you're in the market for that kind of thing, and then - once in a while - the ads will send a little money my way.
Be patient. I'm still playing with the ads so as they aren't completely offensive. Every so often a dating ad seems to be popping up, and really, who needs that hassle? Or an ad for a drug I can't recommend even if the pharmaceutical company in question does promise to help you lose weight and grow hair on your erection. And what the hell is curling, anyway?
It's going to be a process, people. But one which will, hopefully, keep me out of the poor house as I do one of the few things I can actually do well and that might actually net me some money: Raising Veal.
I mean: Writing.
To have written.
I can do that pretty good.
And without all those annoying stretch marks.