Mish Mosh

So, the OB didn't see my humor in "swallowing prey" comment. I thought it was a great description, but apparently I am just a maniac with too much time on my hands. They were also not intrigued by my "reverse morning sickness" theory either. I just have a child pressing on my organs and that is why I want to barf all the time.

Cpt J took me out on a date a couple of nights ago. The server was pregnant, the lady behind us had one of those kids that kept turning around in the booth to talk to us and is trying to have another and the check out lady at the grocery store is pregnant. Poor J, I felt compelled to apologize as he is surrounded by constant pregnancy. Anyway, I started sobbing before we left. I felt fat, had nothing to wear (whatever), and didn't want to embarrass him by waddling in to the restaurant. In true Cpt J form, he reassured me, found me something to wear and made me feel beautiful. We had a great time. He is also very excited about the fact that he can assist in "priming my vagina." Enough said, look that one up.

Thank you to our friends and family that have bought onesies for babes. But, can I please have one that says, "future doctor," "future lawyer," "future sports phenom." I don't want the munchkin to be a pilot. Unless he goes to Annapolis and becomes an officer and ... you see where I am going. My husband is brilliant, has a million dollar education, has the lives of 150+ people each flight in his hands, lives the dream (blech), but has just gotten over the poverty line in the past few years. He will be paying off student loans for the next 10,000 years and would still be a nomad if it weren't for me keeping put. Ok, I am not going to continue my tangent, you get the idea. So, please no more "future aviator" onesies.

Cpt J's wife has a sweaty ass - all the time!