{set goals. make plans.}

I spent 18 holy months setting goals and making plans. Awhile back, while saving lives, I had an epipheny of the need to set goals and make plans for the future. So I did. Sister B would be SO proud of me right now. If only she was a loyal fan. 'Tis not the case, but I'll get over it. Anyway, LifePlans anyone? I agree, what a good idea.

And let me just throw it out there that I am completely serious about this. No joke. Serious as a heart attack, as my Ray would put it.

First, to get in the mood, push play and continue reading.



First things frist. Imma find me a baby daddy asap. Don't worry, we'll get hitched. Probably on the beach. At sunset. Wearing our bathing suits. JK. No bathing suits.

Baby Daddy (as he will affectionely hereby be known as) will be one of three things.

A Lawyer.

A Doctor.

A Rapper. (ie. Nelly)

Whatever he is, Baby Daddy will be smokin hot. Like, woah.

(Sidenote: a doctors life is rough. I mean, who wants your man dissapearing from dinner on the rooftop of the hippest five star joint in town to deliver a baby or cut into someones brain? Not I. That is why if Baby Daddy decides to be a smarty farty and go the medical route, he will be into plastics. Probably with an emphesis in noses and boobs. Those surgeries are scheduled in advance. And not during date night. Just saying)

We will live on the coast coughFloridacough. More specifically on the beach. Baby Daddy will teach me to surf and we'll go out at sunrise to do just that. Daily. Right out the back door and onto the sand. Of course we'll live on a private beach so there won't be any homeless dudes sleeping on our sand. When he gets home from work I will great him with his beverage of choice and after the wee ones have gone to slumber land we'll chill on the deck out back. And possibly build some sand castles. It will look something like this:

While he is out making people look good/defending the innocent/making jams with his smooth voice I will need to do something to occupy my time as well. That is why when I grow up I will be a water aerobics instructor. Holy Moly, that is the life. No seriously, on the off chance that Baby Daddy doesn't make millions a quarter, I will teach water aerobics anyway. Watch me. Plus, chillin' with gals like this will make my world complete. You can be jealous if you want.

Of course there will be children.

 13 little ones. 13 is a J* family lucky number. Plus Baby Daddy and I will need a whole baseball team to get us through the summer. But there are only 9 playing ball at a time, right? Don't worry, I have done the math. The regular 9 + relief pitcher + designated hitter + a bat boy + a cushion incase one of them ain't any good. We're going to be the coolest family on the block.

I seriously have got to get on this. I'm no spring chicken anymore and 13 kiddos is a lot for an old lady to birth. So the sooner the better, right? Right? If any of you know a smoking Lawyer/Rapper/Doctor who is hot as sin and wants this hot body as a baby mama, let me know. Cool, thanks.

Peace and Blessings.