Look! Updating! Now Stop Yelling At Me.
February 22, 2005
SIGNS THAT YOU ARE A SLACKER:
1) People email and ask if your pregnancy has gone to your typing fingers.
2) People email with entry ideas, even offering to write the first draft for you.
3) People email and tell you that "Gee, I used to love your site, and I was all excited about the pregnancy entries, but then you vanish too much and honestly, I expect more from my free online entertainment, so I'm not gonna read you no more, you lazy bitch."
4) People stop emailing you altogether, leaving your inbox full of nothing but 400 personalized pregnancy newsletters and shipping confirmations from Old Navy Maternity.
5) TypePad no longer logs you in automatically, and you really have to stop and think about what your blog password is.
So hi, I'm a slacking, awful person. Who really didn't mean to go this long without updating. Really! Am sorry. (Sort of. You know.)
I haven't written anything because I am sick to death of the stuff I write about. And talk about. And think about. Because it's all the same!
IF AMY IS TALKING, CHANCES ARE SHE IS TALKING ABOUT ONE OR MORE OF THE FOLLOWING:
2) Feeling like puking.
3) Things that cause puking (i.e. toothpaste, leftovers, boiling water).
4) The sudden and rapid disappearance of my waistline.
5) Also, I feel like puking.
Although I felt really stupid doing it, I purchased maternity clothes this weekend. All my 400 pregnancy newsletters keep saying, "Your clothes may be a little tighter, but you aren't showing yet."
All my clothes keep saying, "Bitch, you're insane if you think you're getting us on anymore."
So after a few weeks of looping rubber bands around pants' buttonholes and hiking skirts up to right below my boobs, I finally did what I should always do first: I talked to my mommy. Who has been pregnant four times and was wearing maternity clothes by eight weeks along every single time. Apparently, women in our family carry all "in the belly," we get the belly early, and the belly grows until we look like big old beach balls with stick-figure arms and chicken legs waddling about.
This would explain why I totally have a belly already.
I mean, no one's going to look at me and go, "PREGNANT!" yet, and a few people who have been shown the belly are all, "Yawn, whatever, you scrawny bitch, you just look like you actually ate food today." But still. Belly. For me to pat and talk to and for Jason to eye suspiciously. (Jason: Oh, you're totally pushing it out. Amy: *actually pushes her abdomen out.* Jason: Oh. My. God.)
So I bought some maternity clothes. And I very nearly threw up in the Old Navy dressing rooms. (See? I'd gone way too long without talking about puking.)
IN OTHER NON-PUKING NEWS:
1) Chicken McNuggets are the most delicious, wonderful, straight-from-heaven food I have ever tasted.
2) I am a little in love with the SuperNanny.
3) I went to the movies! In the theater! Which was totally not on my own couch! We saw Sideways. Which really made me pine for wine and soft cheeses.
4) I also ate (vegetarian-please-don't-email-me) sushi and aged tangerine peel beef in a rare burst of non-nausea, and then followed up this culinary extravaganza with more Chicken McNuggets.
5) Aaaaannnd...new shoes. Comfy flat shoes to help me not fall down so much.
Yes, they are Coach. Yes, they match my purse. Yes, I totally promise to stop now.
(Oh, but first, while the camera is out and being fiddled with, let me assure you that I have not forgotten the other babies, who have no freaking idea how terrible their lives are about to become.)