Every time I get an email notification that someone has left a comment on a blog post these days, it's someone extolling the powers of a certain witch doctor to win back a wayward spouse or promises of wealth and fortune if only you (and I ) join the ranks of the Illuminati immediately.
You guys, I don't even know how to blog IP addresses or whatever it is people do when spammers are killin' it in the combox. But more importantly the only comments I'm getting are spam because I don't blog anymore. So depressing.
Hey, I'm finally starting to feel betterish! As long as I don't go too long between snacks and don't go overboard on the sugar and don't try to chug water, especially not on an empty stomach, I can pretty much do, like, regular things. Regular is so, so nice. I actually thought about that this morning while I was getting dressed- about the why of early pregnancy sending everything into shambles, at it goes something like this...
-Shuffle to bedroom with cheese stick in hand to force yourself out of pajamas and into clothing. Except it's not actually pajamas. It's the clothes you wore yesterday because you passed out on the sofa before you could change into pajamas. But it wouldn't have mattered even if you had been able to stay awake because your toddler sleeps in your room and you can't go in there after he's in bed for any reason anyway unless you just love for him to demand to be taken out so he can careen about with a severe case of dying fly syndrome.
-Barely avoid losing your breakfast when the waistband of your clean clothing almost imperceptibly brushes against the skin of your abdomen.
-Consider for one millisecond the possibility of picking your clothes and robe up off the floor but realize that you have energy left for only one thing and that thing is making it to the bathroom before you're sick in even worse places.
Lather, rinse, repeat every day until every single article of clothing you own is on the floor of your bedroom, mocking you, taunting you, making all the grossness of the gross seem even grosser because HOW WILL YOU EVER BE ABLE TO PICK THEM UP WITHOUT ANY FABRIC EVEN TOUCHING YOUR STOMACH IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM? You won't. This will go on forever. Is there even anything in the world except trying to live to see the next day? Lord help me.
Anyway, basically that would have been my exact blog post for the past 8 weeks, which would have probably gotten old, especially considering all the fragment/run on/all caps sentences up in here. But tomorrow I will be 16 weeks so maybe maybe maaaaaaaaaaaybe I'm over the hump.
Hey, we're part of a nativity peg doll swap. Wanna see the beginning of our herd of donkeys?
They have cute little tails on their bums and will soon have little saddle blankets so that Mary doesn't get sweaty donkey hair all over whatever maternity dress she had to wear while riding a friggin' donkey from Nazareth all the way to Bethlehem.
I'm having a lot of empathy for pregnant women right now, okay?
Oh! Last thing! I mean, there have been a thousand things, but in case you missed it on IG, we done taked our Christmas picture (long live the timer on the camera on the tripod and me running back and forth hollering "eyes open, wide open eyes....." over and over again) and got our cards back already. Voila:
Isn't it fun? I can't believe we made it work. God bless Photoshop, mhmmmmm.
Happy Thanksgiving, guys. I'm excited to not be on the brink of death anymore. Enjoy your correctly prepared bread cube and sage stuffing with no additional ingredients such as fruits, nuts, or meat!