I’ve got the fever. Baby Fever.

I’ve got baby fever.You’re pregnant… I’m probably going to stare at you. You have a baby… my insides are secretly (or not so secretly) screaming to snuggle that little bundle of love, for hours. You want to talk cloth diapers… I’m your girl. Pay no mind to the fact that I don’t have a child,

The month of August.

I know that during the start of November it’s starting to get cold and that snuggling naked under the covers appears to make more sense than putting on a sweatshirt, but please, for the love of my waistline and my wallet, constrain yourselves.