kaumealani:

Baby & Me

wellheyheybaby:

Thinking it might be a materinty shirt…

somehowlou:

BleuBirdVintage - 25 weeks

(via bulletproofiwishiwas)

mrsmogul:

Rebecca Romijn poses in front of her Got Milk campaign. Actually, milk is not really goof for kids, or adults for that matter. Thanks dairy associations for all the bloaty tummies out there!

(via obliteratedheart)

somethinglikegrace:

I want to be pregnant, I want to have a child, I want a child to grow up knowing that I loved them unconditionally, to raise them to have better morals than I did while still allowing them to be who they are and have their freedom—nose rings and belly button rings aren’t allowed, informing them that most tattoos are tacky and that while they may be cool in their 20’s, they don’t look as bright and as tight in their 60’s—they’re the type of things you cover up on a Sunday morning because the things that once looked like straight, perfect lines now look like waves on your skin due to the wrinkles age has given them.  I want to wake up in the middle of the night to cries of hunger or of restlessness or of loneliness or of accidents, and maybe by the time I actually have a baby I won’t be so shy about the word “poop” or “pee”.  I never use those words, and I don’t like to, but I realize that the word “bathroom” or “accident” might be too big of a word for a child who’s just learning to speak and that one syllable words might work better, like “oops”.  I want a girl.  I want to dress her up in beautiful polka dots and stripes with giant bows in her hair—but only until she reaches that point where she prefers her blue jeans over heels, t-shirts over skirts and pony tails over curls.  A boy would be okay.  I lie.  A boy would be fantastic.  I’d raise them to know that ballet is not normal for boys—unless they have a strong desire to be beaten up on the playground.  I can’t wait for toy cars and basketballs, or a book and a magnifying glass.  I can’t wait to send them off to school, Lion King backpacks and Cars lunchboxes.  They’ll ride the bus.  You learn lessens by riding the bus—like to never be mean and not let someone sit down simply because they wear uncool leather jackets and have oily hair and live in a hotel.  Don’t sleep on the bus, you miss your stop.  Always make sure your shoes are tied before you get out of the seat—you cannot control others’ feet while walking off the bus.  I can’t wait to teach them that purity is not a joke, and things that seem cool or right when you’re 16 most times end up being things you regret when you’re 20.  Save your kisses for those who deserve them.  Let me be honest and say that no one deserves your kisses when you’re 16—hormones are too wild.  Snuggling is always okay—with the door open.  Don’t date people who are mean to you—no matter how cute or popular they might be.  Hard punches in the arm, pulling of the hair is not okay.  Hair tucks and dreamy eyes do the trick.  I can’t wait til the Sunday skirts transform into prom dresses and Sunday suits turn into a tux.  Live it up-but don’t drink.  Drinking is a waste of good energy.  Don’t hang around 16 year olds that drink—they obviously didn’t have good parents that told them the same thing.  I’m not going to say “I told you so”, I’m going to have a reason-a very valid reason, and just because I said so doesn’t mean it makes sense.  Argue with me if you think I’m wrong.  But don’t just yell-have a point.  They’ll read a book a month—not a fashion magazine or a magazine of cars, a classic—The Scarlet Pimpernel or The Count of Monte Cristo—books that wrap you up in romance and adventure and chivalry.  Embrace it.

I want a baby, because I said so.

fictiononfiction:

Safe Baby Pregnancy Tips