I'd like to think you have a general idea of how I feel, but -- it bears repeating. I'm amazed. In a good way.
I've survived two trimesters of pregnancy and begun my third.
I'm excited. Terrified. It's becoming more and more real each second.
Last week's ratings have the show up two points.
And you earned 'em, too. I'm so proud of you. You guys are kicking serious ass. (Also, I have to admit that I'm, you know, very glad to have you back on my TV. Cold comfort on the campaign trail, but it's nice to have. Selfish, I admit.)
My husband is writing again.
Attempting to write. There's a difference. The effort's there, though. Hopefully it'll result in something worthwhile. Here's hoping. I'm glad you're excited, though. That helps exponentially.
I'm happy, too. Saying that feels pretty incredible, I have to say. Thank you for that. For all of it.
I'd like to think you have a general idea of how I feel, but -- it bears repeating. I'm amazed. In a good way.
It's... truly incredible. If you'd told me a year and a half ago that I'd find myself here I would have laughed you out of the room.
I'm excited. Terrified. It's becoming more and more real each second.
Don't remind me. When I actually let myself think about it, I'm genuinely frightened. Sometimes I feel as though this will be great, that we'll be wonderful parents, that whatever happens we can handle it. And then there are the moments when I work myself into a complete panic, convinced that there's no way I can do this, that I'm going to screw Blob up for life, that I'm far too selfish to be a halfway decent mother. I just need to remember to breathe and remember that the person I'm doing this with is absolutely amazing.
Attempting to write. There's a difference.
Hey, you got three sentances out. They weren't Shakespeare, but they were words set to paper.
I love you. More than I knew it was possible to love.
It's... truly incredible. If you'd told me a year and a half ago that I'd find myself here I would have laughed you out of the room.
Two years ago I would have said, "No, seriously?" Then you would patiently tell me again, and I think I'd just stare at you in disbelief. There's a part of me that still feels like I got away with something I shouldn't have, like I won the lottery without even buying a ticket.
there's no way I can do this
If I can do this, you can do this. That's how it works.
that I'm going to screw Blob up for life, that I'm far too selfish to be a halfway decent mother.
An overexposure to Pat Benatar aside, I don't think you've got anything to worry about. And I don't understand why you think you're so selfish -- I owe so much to you. You're more generous than you think.
They weren't Shakespeare, but they were words set to paper.
And there we agree. Then again, I've never really tried iambic pentameter, so...
like I won the lottery without even buying a ticket.
I think you've more than paid for the ticket, Sam, in homecooked meals, in backrubs, in the sheer number of times you've let me blow up at you without walking away.
If I<> can do this, you can do this. That's how it works.
So you'd better be damn sure you can do this, then.
An overexposure to Pat Benatar aside, I don't think you've got anything to worry about.
Hey, there's no such thing as an overexposure to Pat Benatar. Hell, however, is not for children, but rather for husbands who give their pregnant wives a hard time about their taste in music.
And I don't understand why you think you're so selfish -- I owe so much to you. You're more generous than you think.
You're too kind. Sometimes you say things like that and I wonder if you know me at all.
And there we agree. Then again, I've never really tried iambic pentameter, so...
I think you should try it.
And I love you. Can't wait for Friday.I'm nervous. I'm unbelievably nervous. I have complete faith in you and
( ... )
Comments 4
I've been married for (just over) a year now.
I'd like to think you have a general idea of how I feel, but -- it bears repeating. I'm amazed. In a good way.
I've survived two trimesters of pregnancy and begun my third.
I'm excited. Terrified. It's becoming more and more real each second.
Last week's ratings have the show up two points.
And you earned 'em, too. I'm so proud of you. You guys are kicking serious ass. (Also, I have to admit that I'm, you know, very glad to have you back on my TV. Cold comfort on the campaign trail, but it's nice to have. Selfish, I admit.)
My husband is writing again.
Attempting to write. There's a difference. The effort's there, though. Hopefully it'll result in something worthwhile. Here's hoping. I'm glad you're excited, though. That helps exponentially.
I'm happy, too. Saying that feels pretty incredible, I have to say. Thank you for that. For all of it.
Reply
It's... truly incredible. If you'd told me a year and a half ago that I'd find myself here I would have laughed you out of the room.
I'm excited. Terrified. It's becoming more and more real each second.
Don't remind me. When I actually let myself think about it, I'm genuinely frightened. Sometimes I feel as though this will be great, that we'll be wonderful parents, that whatever happens we can handle it. And then there are the moments when I work myself into a complete panic, convinced that there's no way I can do this, that I'm going to screw Blob up for life, that I'm far too selfish to be a halfway decent mother. I just need to remember to breathe and remember that the person I'm doing this with is absolutely amazing.
Attempting to write. There's a difference.
Hey, you got three sentances out. They weren't Shakespeare, but they were words set to paper.
I love you. More than I knew it was possible to love.
Reply
Two years ago I would have said, "No, seriously?" Then you would patiently tell me again, and I think I'd just stare at you in disbelief. There's a part of me that still feels like I got away with something I shouldn't have, like I won the lottery without even buying a ticket.
there's no way I can do this
If I can do this, you can do this. That's how it works.
that I'm going to screw Blob up for life, that I'm far too selfish to be a halfway decent mother.
An overexposure to Pat Benatar aside, I don't think you've got anything to worry about. And I don't understand why you think you're so selfish -- I owe so much to you. You're more generous than you think.
They weren't Shakespeare, but they were words set to paper.
And there we agree. Then again, I've never really tried iambic pentameter, so...
And I love you. Can't wait for Friday.
Reply
I think you've more than paid for the ticket, Sam, in homecooked meals, in backrubs, in the sheer number of times you've let me blow up at you without walking away.
If I<> can do this, you can do this. That's how it works.
So you'd better be damn sure you can do this, then.
An overexposure to Pat Benatar aside, I don't think you've got anything to worry about.
Hey, there's no such thing as an overexposure to Pat Benatar. Hell, however, is not for children, but rather for husbands who give their pregnant wives a hard time about their taste in music.
And I don't understand why you think you're so selfish -- I owe so much to you. You're more generous than you think.
You're too kind. Sometimes you say things like that and I wonder if you know me at all.
And there we agree. Then again, I've never really tried iambic pentameter, so...
I think you should try it.
And I love you. Can't wait for Friday.I'm nervous. I'm unbelievably nervous. I have complete faith in you and ( ... )
Reply
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