observations on being pregnant

I’ve been trying to think of some way to explain pregnancy to people who have never been pregnant. And just now, while I was serving myself some cake for lunch, I realized that being pregnant is like being on a cruise. You don’t have to do much, people wait on you and take care of you, you can pretty much eat anything guilt-free and some people throw up.

Ok, that’s an over-simplified way of looking at it. There’s also fatigue, the people who (mostly with good intentions) lay claim to your unborn baby, the FATIGUE, the HOMRONES. I know that I mentioned fatigue twice. It’s that bad. One second you’re fine then all of a sudden your body just crashes and you’re out like a light.

I’m lucky in that I haven’t experienced morning sickness during this whole thing. If it weren’t for the FATIGUE (so bad that it has to be acknowledged in all caps) I would completely forget that I’m pregnant. Other than being more careful about what I eat and what drugs I take, I still carry on with life. Sometimes to the disapproval of my husband and friends. I tried surfing when I was 12 weeks along, I still go to spin class and elevate my heart rate above 140 bpm, I still have coffee (non-decaf) every once in a while. I think it’s all fine and they’re worrying too much. It makes me feel normal, especially the exercise.

Here’s my last thought on this subject: pregnancy boobs are ridiculous.

welcome to adulthood

You’re probably visiting this page thinking, whoa, didn’t there used to be OTHER STUFF here? Well yeah, there was stuff here before. I decided to purge it all, move it to the way down sub-basement-level archive, because I decided that’s all irrelevant to me now. This site used to be a top hit for “Giraffe Penis” for christ’s sake. Besides that, I just don’t associate with the girl from a few years anymore. I can’t even associate with the girl I was last month. And in the next few posts, I’ll explain.

Later this year, I will turn a quarter century old. I don’t know what that means, but when I was growing up I thought I would have everything figured out by 25 like it was some sort of magical deadline into real adulthood. You know, where you start saving for retirement and become serious with your significant other and “adult” stuff like that. I still don’t have everything figured out, but at least I have a retirement account! And a house! I’m a homeowner. Surely that makes me an adult on some level.