CONTENTS OF A GROCERY STORE BASKET BELONGING TO A PREGNANT WOMAN SUFFERING FROM MORNING/AFTERNOON/EVENING SICKNESS WHOSE HUSBAND IS AWAY ON A BUSINESS TRIP:
1 package baby carrots
3 boxes Kraft Macaroni & Cheese
2 cans Spaghettios w/ Meatballs and Added Calcium
1 half-gallon reduced-fat milk
1 six-pack ginger ale
1 bag Goldfish crackers
So Jason is away in New York until some ungodly late hour tonight, which means I am wild and crazy and unsupervised. So what am I up to? Mischief? Mayhem?
Well, I took the dog out to pee and now I'm watching episodes of A Baby Story while wearing pyjamas.
And I'm such a rebel? The top and bottom DON'T EVEN MATCH. Rock the fuck on!
But PJs and Goldfish crackers aren't the only fun on the agenda tonight. First: Presents! Lots and lots of presents!
First up, a gift basket from my friend Penny from these fine people that includes Preggie Pops for morning sickness (dude, JUST IN TIME), snarky teabags and a wee book on "finding your inner mom," which I think I need, as you'll see in a bit.
(SHUT THE HELL UP, Woman On A Baby Story who got pregnant two months after going off the pill. Your hair is ugly.)
And then, from the always darling and generous and gorgeous Nola, a BIG ASS BOX from Anthropologie. From which, apparently, you can buy BABY TOYS like this one.
This is the softest, squishiest, deliciousiest toy ever, and if it does not become my child's favorite, I will be VERY DISAPPOINTED IN THEM.
Ceiba is not even allowed in the same room as this bunny, for she is Destructive. Look what she did to her toy today.
RIP Squeaky McPuff.
In Tadpole news, Tadpole is actually beyond a tadpole now. According to the various pregnancy books I have scattered around the house, Tadpole is now "the size of a chickpea or a pencil eraser."
Aw. A little Chickpea.
I am hereby boycotting any type of cutesy pea/bean/legume-like nickname for my embryo. Instead, I'm thinking "Eraserhead."
See why I might need that inner mom book? "Yes little baby, while other pregnant bloggers were calling their babies names like Sweet Pea or Hominy Grit, I named you after the David Lynch movie with the mutant penis-baby. Now go to bed. Don't make me get out the wire hangers."
And now, it's 10 p.m., which means it's time for bed to rest up for another long day of vomiting. DAMN, my life is FABULOUS.