Pregnancy gripes, 10 weeks

* Typical nausea
* Typical tummy aches
* Atypical chest pains
* Shortness of breath
* Atypical upper abdomen pains
* Consistently runny, orange poo
* Having to keep my 2-year-old entertained
* Forcing said 2-year-old into television enslavement (up to 6 hours a day now)
* Feeling guilty about not cooking dinner
* Can't get enough sleep in this cold country rife with low-flying airplanes
* Can't walk more than 10 yards without wanting to hurl
* Can't get any Mexican food
* Can't get Chick-Fil-A
* Can't get a slurpee
* Eaten more sugar over last 3 weeks than throughout the entire previous part of 2006
* Can't stop lying down
* Horrible indigestion/heartburn/acid reflux
* Can't get to the grocery store
* Can't take showers at night or every day because it's too exhausting
* Wear shirts and socks for 2 days at a time before changing
* Fat jeans already worn with top button undone
* England blows

Pregnant Food Diary, second entry

Today I've consumed:

* One bowl tasteless mueslix
* Two pieces cheese toast
* Two pieces pumpkin bread
* 2 mini Snickers bars
* 2 normal-sized Snickers bars
* 1/2L Coke
* 1/2 a pan green bean casserole, cold
* 1L water
* 4 slices mild cheddar

It's not yet dinner time.

Funny pregnant stuff

So we don't have a bathroom upstairs. Three bedrooms upstairs but no loo. Apparently in 1896 they were still using outhouses. And no one who's lived in this house since has had the pleasure of adding a loo upstairs. Oh joy. And I'm not a good sleeper ... if I had to go all the way downstairs, pee and then go back upstairs, I would surely not go back to sleep again. And I pee at least once in the night, every night, as it is. But now that I'm preggers, my bladder is on overdrive. It's at least twice a night. So I have this plastic pitcher that I keep in our room. And yes, I use it as a chamber pot. I wash it every morning. (It's very endearing that Mark is trying so hard to help around the house since I'm feeling so poorly, but he never, EVER touches the pee pitcher.) I brought two pitchers from NC to London: one for iced tea and one for lemonade. Since they have neither here, why not sacrifice one? It's pretty gross. But it's what you've got to do when your only bathroom is basically still in the backyard -- sorry, I mean "back garden."

Another piece of information that is more than anyone would care to know is that my Black Friend is back. When I was about 5 months pregnant the first time, I noticed this long, black hair -- maybe 3 or 4 inches long -- hanging from underneath my enormous left breast. How I managed to not see it growing in length for all that time is beyond me. But nevertheless, I woke up one morning and there it was. I blamed it on the hormones. So just to see how things were going with my pregnantly-affected body, I check on my Black Friend the other day and sure enough, we're almost up to an inch and I'm only 8 weeks preggers.

"Glory be; the funk's on me/ Keep that funk alive ..."

Pregnant Food Diary, first entry

Today I ate:

* Two pieces of toast with tons of butter and apricot jam.
* An assload of raisins.
* A giant tub of humous (300g) (looks like about 1 1/2 - 2 cups).
* A piece of cinnamon toast
* Two pork chops that tasted metallic. Won't do that again.
* Probably 4 servings of mashed potatoes.
* A liter (litre) of orange juice.
* Some water.
* Another assload of raisins before bed.

This is disgusting.

Toot! Toot!

That's me tooting my own horn. I put a box of brownie mix in my shopping basket today and then I immediately put it back on the shelf and ran. Literally: ran. I wasn't going to make brownies for anyone, including my family or myself. I was going to eat the batter with a spoon, or even more likely, with my finger. It is not time for this yet! I will not succumb!

Yet.

Sufjan (SOOF-yawn)

So I should just be shut up or smacked sometimes. It's true that I don't like London very much and that I'm obsessed with moving back to the U.S., but how lucky am I? I have a husband who loves me, a beautiful 2-year-old daughter who clings to me, a house that keeps me warm (usually), money to buy Christmas gifts even, a teeny, tiny baby in my tummy and I have seen three of the best shows in my life in the past year.

Who else gets to see Neko Case, Radiohead and Sufjan Stevens? Well, maybe lots of people. But I'm lucky to be one of them. Ironically, it is only because my husband couldn't blow his money on the Dook game this year that he decided to blow it on Sufjan Stevens tickets at five times the asking price on eBay. When I hear music this good, how can I say that life is bad? When I'm able to see it live, how can I complain that there are so many bad things in my life? SOOFyawn is one of the most talented people I've ever witnessed in my life and he's younger than I. I'm not going to say he's an inspiration because the cheese factor is too high, but knowing that his talent is out there makes life a little sweeter.

O Columbia!

Countdown (hotter than ever):

10 months, one week.

I am so That Mom

A. I washed a load of laundry with a tube of lipstick. Yeah. Luckily it was a small load of colors but still ... ruined three shirts and a skirt.

2. My child has given up naps. Really. I think the reason this is so upsetting has to do with control. I think I could write a book about it.

D. I freaked out on my husband last night because he didn't do something, when I already had told him a week ago that it was out of my hands and completely up to him how he handled it.

I think I need retail therapy. Only I don't really like to shop. Oof.