I'm operating on the assumption that most of my readers are women. If you are not, keep prudish and/or piggish comments to yourself. *KTHXBAI.
One of my friends sent me a message via facebook the other day, asking me how the whole pregnancy thing was going. I made the mistake of writing back after a night at work. I spent my entire shift starving and crazy, and all I could manage was a chicken tender, half a baked potato, and a bowl of grape tomatoes (that's my latest thing--I eat tons of the things--, and oh HAI THAR MOUTH SOREZ! I'M IN UR MOUTHZ WIT LOTZ OF ACIDZ!). So, I was a little frustrated when I replied thusly:
Oh, freaking AWESOME. Here's how it goes:
My Stomach: I'm starving. Feed me or I will make you crazy.
Me: How about [insert, delicious, healthy food that I have loved all my life]
My Stomach: Ew.
Me: Not even ranch dressing?
My Stomach: Ew.
Me: Cheese? Cheese is an essential food group all its own.
My Stomach: Ew. Idiot. I'm just going to starve. And make you miserable. How about half a jar of pickles, though? That sounds okay.
Probably way more info than you wanted/needed/was asking for, but I'm in a particularly bitter mood at the moment.
Last I checked, though, the baby is fine. So it's all worth it.
It was meant to be funny, but now it just seems whiny. But still. So very true. I just keep reminding myself of what we'll get out of it in the end.
Also. Do not ever eat six fruit roll-ups in one sitting. Even if it seems like a really awesome idea at the time. It's not an awesome idea ever. It's a very bad idea.
On the upside of pregnancy, we have this: I have gone from a 34B to a 34E in just two short years. About 70% of that growth has happened in the last three months. James can barely believe his good fortune. I keep forgetting that they're, you know, there, and hitting them on things. Like my arms or when I try to squeeze sideways through a doorway that has a person in it already:
"My breasts are OUT OF CONTROL."
"Oh... Thanks... for that. Hope you feel better."
I mean, imagine if you feet suddenly grew an inch. It's kind of the same thing. Especially for someone like me who could never get a date with **Archibald Widdershins because I had no boobs. Also because I was a huge dork, but I like to think it had nothing to do with me or my personality.
*I can't help doing this LOLCATSspeak since I saw this, which is awesomely hilarious. While I've always found it hilarious, this latest batch of funniness is too much for me to resist the fad any longer.
**You know, I bet someday he or one of his friends somehow stumbles across this. I don't know how. It's not like the guys I went to high school with browse Blogger looking for touching stories and wild hilarity. But I bet they do find it and tell him. And if they do, I never want to know about it. Because I will die. Also, Archibald Widdershins is not his real name, but I'm pretty sure everyone who knew me in high school could figure it out.