Scratch that, more like things that make me go "What the fudgesicle?!!"
I don't know how to break this to y'all, but here it goes:
Apparently I look straight up INSANE. Like, who let this lady off her meds and out of her straight jacket?
I wasn't aware of this. I have seen myself for 30 plus years, I thought I was just a normal, albeit sometimes adorable, lady. But nope, I must be cray cray.
Surely you must be wondering how I now know this.
I know this, without a doubt, because I have heard the following at least 20 times since Bree was born:
Oh, she's real. I thought she was a doll!
My husband insists that's people complimenting the baby. No Dear, that's people calling your wife a nutty buddy. A compliment would be "She looks like a doll!"
Saying you thought she was a doll means I look like the type of crazy person who would spend hundreds of dollars on a baby carrier or stroller, plus toys, clothes and a diaper bag just so I could walk around town pushing a doll to look like I had a child.
That's a special kinda crazy.
And apparently, my friends, that's what I look like.