Sometimes in photographs, or sometimes when I just look at myself sideways in the mirror, I appear to be carrying a ball around. It is actually sort of disconcerting. Like, “Wait a minute? What’s that sticking out there? RIGHT! I’m pregnant. Ah.” Because I forget. I know. How can I forget? Well, I have a two year old son as well. And he keeps me busy enough to forget this sort of thing. I also forget to turn off stove burners, to put shampoo in my hair before conditioner, and what order make up should be applied in (note: mascara does not go on before moisturizer). Yep, carrying a basketball around all day addles with your brain.