If I don’t clearly state that we are waiting for Santa. We are expecting Santa and not a little peanut. Sad really. But for the record, I would be just as happy to know we were expecting a little clown who would take our last name, but for now we will just wait in anticipation for the man with the bag. We are expecting Santa. The end.
Well. Not the end. I am also expecting a new tattoo with my birthday money. I am expecting to have a mellow Christmas. I am expecting my weight to fluctuate.
I am expecting my friend to tell me she is hopping on a plane with her new baby from Uganda.
I am expecting my kids to learn some instruments. See? I am expecting all sorts of things.