Time and Priorities

I have entered that portion of the pregnancy where time slows down to a crawl. This is a mystery unexplained by neither scientist nor philosopher--how it is that life rushes by like a Japanese bullet train, but the pregnancy ceases to progress except at a snail's pace. I've been thirty weeks along for a full month now, I'm sure of it.

Before I hit the third tri skids, I took the younger kids to see "Tangled." Not a bad little Disney movie, but the five-year-old was traumatized by the sad ending. (Spoiler alert.) At the end, when the handsome "prince" dies as he cuts off Rapunzel's magical golden hair (which turns it brown and unmagical), the entire theater was distraught--how would they pull this out? How would they save her one true love? Mariah was no exception, but her anxiety was hair-focused. Mommy, what happened to her hair? How will she get her hair back? The true love's recovery was no consolation for the tragedy of becoming a brunette.