The cicadas are really loud today. I can hear them while I'm sitting in my living room. It's sort of just this contant, high-pitched "eeeeeeeeeeee!!!" It's annoying. I don't remember them sounding like this when they last came around. Then again, I was 10 years old and probably not paying much attention. I was busy running around outside in my bare feet with all the other neighborhood kids trying not to step on their disgusting little carcases that littered the sidewalks.
Tom brought up yesterday that the next time the 17-year cicadas come out to play, Ben will be 17. He'll probably be driving and have a girlfriend who will SO not be good enough for him.
I probably will have also gone through pregnancy a few more times (!) which means he'll probably also have a little sibling or two. If one of them is a girl, she'll be going through that annoying 13-15 year old stage. If one of them is a boy, he'll just starting to be embarassed about being seen with his mom. And if both of them are boys, I will have officially become my mother-in-law and so I'll probably be grasping for any little bit of communication I can get out of them on their way out the door to meet their girlfriends or play baseball.
Weird. Incredibly weird.
Then again, I thought it was totally preposterous that *I'd* be 27 THIS time around. And I can tell you, I never even thought about the fact that I'd be married with a child.
It all goes by so quickly ...
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