Not from my parents.
Not from my inlaws.
Not from my friends.
Not even from Max asking for a baby sister or brother.
My baby pressure is coming from none other than my old friend the red bullseye.
Damn you, Target, and your unfair marketing.
Do you think I'm made of stone???
How can I resist an email like this:
The nautical color palette.
The rustic shiplap wall.
The cozy sleeping nook.
That damn adorable fox pillow.
You didn't get me this time.
But I'm on to you.
(Any chance that crib skirt comes in a King?)