Reclaiming queer procreation, dropping the last nap, stupid crows, Baby T. at A-Camp, and losta cute T. Rex pics.

“What I’m saying is, if you’re sitting in the legislative chamber trying to hear the floor debate and someone’s kid starts crying or yelling “Baby Shark!” please be kind to them.”

I wasn’t at all ready for the feelings I’d have about being adopted and queer and raising a toddler who still isn’t as old as I was when I came to the United States on an airplane.

It’s time and we’re ready-ish. Plus queer-friendly baby books, infant NFL jerseys, nightshade free living, and pregnancy acupuncture!

I asked Waffle to curate a gallery of favorites from our very expansive dino-themed baby wardrobe. I didn’t have to ask twice.

“I think you underestimate the amount of time I spend thinking about Remi.” – Waffle

Welcome to the world, Remi!

I started the 31st week of my pregnancy crying over the kitchen sink as I crammed my gestational diabetes breakfast into my mouth. It wasn’t the pregnancy hormones this time. It was the overwhelming grief and the sudden realization of what it means to be a parent.

Extreme itchy scratchies, body-positive parenting, fat pregnant femme feelings, nesting, dill pickles, Korean pancakes and more as I fly past the eight-month mark.