Knocked Up

Well, I've gone and done it. I've gotten myself knocked up. Okay, so I guess I didn't do it all by myself. I have my husband to thank for at least half of that forbidden dance. But I am definitely knocked up. SO knocked up, in fact, that I am about to drop this oven baby in less than a month. If my calculated due date is anywhere near on track, my baby boy (the real kind, not the "I love you Jody!" kind) will be here in TWENTY-FOUR DAYS. It's just mind blowing, really. Anyway, so that pretty much sums up why I haven't blogged in what seems like a lifetime. Because it has in fact been a lifetime ... or at least the beginning of one. I'm sure you've already forgiven me for my less than prolific history, so I won't waste time by apologizing for something that I'm really not all that sorry for.

I'm not quite sure why I decided that today would be the perfect time to catch you up on all things housewife, but here I am. Here's the short version (I'd give you the long version, but it would require at least one cocktail, which I am obviously not able to enjoy currently. So if I suffer, you suffer.):  I got pregnant. I got a job working for a certain NPO that will go unnamed. I hated said job because of a certain possibly bi-polar boss, who will also go unnamed. I quit that godawful, stress inducing, soul-sucking job one Friday after about three months of my patience and sanity being tested DAILY. Side note, that was possibly the single most irresponsible thing that I have ever done in my adult life ... well, at least that I would share with you (without the above-mentioned prerequisite cocktail(s). Moving on, I have since become a reality television addict (the first step is admitting that I have a problem, right?), a professional pregnant chick who sits on the couch with her feet up, and an overall complainer. I'm multitalented.

I won't overwhelm you with the details of all of my complaints.  Just think along the lines of EVERYTHING. You'd be so amazed how many obscure symptoms and random things there are to complain about whilst being pregnant (much to the hubs' chagrin). There's an endless supply of weird things that could either be attributed to pregnancy, or some sort of life-threatening illness that could claim your life at any time. By the way, if you do happen to find yourself preggers, I don't recommend pulling up the old WebMD every time you suffer a new symptom. That website will have you self-diagnosed with ebola with a nice side of anthrax and sarcoidosis. (Did you know that House reruns are on ALL of the time on USA?? It's true. Trust me ... I know.)

Anyhoo, if I'm tired of writing, you are surely tired of reading, so I'll leave you with a picture of my burgeoning belly. It's big. Large and in charge. But that's another topic for another day!

xo