In the Pink. Again.

So I called my mom last night, mostly to bore someone besides Jason with a very long diatribe about work, about daycare, about staying home, about money, about spending the majority of my precious moments with Noah getting crapped on, and about whatever else was bugging me out yesterday.

I took a breath after 20 minutes or so, and finally got around to asking how she was doing.

I figured we'd talk some more about Amber, our sweet old dog, who was put to sleep last week after a long battle with Everything, and I didn't tell you guys about that because I'm just too damn sad to talk about it.

She was a good dog, and I never got to say goodbye, unless you count last Christmas when I really, really hope I remembered to pet her.

Goodbye, Old Paint.

But we didn't talk about Amber last night, at least not right away.

They found a lump. Another goddamn lump. In her other breast. Her only breast.

We're starting all over again. And I have no words.

I do, however, have an appropriate onesie (which you can find here). And a bunch of Very Good Links You Should Click On, Preferably With Your Credit Card Handy.

Noah likes the boobs! You give money now!

Don't make me break out the baby toes, people.

Save the Boobies. And Nanalah.