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All Sorts Of Too Much Information Going On Here, Sorry

  • Things were looking up around here. We thought the front door/back door issues were under control. Sadly, we were mistaken. The boy has had issues in the backend for 4 days now. I'm so worried about dehydration. Pedialyte popsicles, here we come. The girl? She had both ends going. Gah! My father in law is sorta kinda feeling better. I'm sorta kinda gettin' there. The husband is doing ok he says (whew) and my mother in law says she feels queasy but it's probably 'cause of the ish factor in the house right now. Amen to that.
  • Ever have the kind of gas that doesn't stink or make noise? The kind that you almost sigh in relief when it's released because oh. my. god. all of that was in my body and I didn't explode? I did and it was glorious.
  • I don't mind when people I know, people I like, tell me that I'm getting so big. When a jerk off customer says it after being a douche to me? Cause he realizes I'm pregnant and maybe he shouldn't have been a douche? Yeah, I don't like that.
  • I feel bad that my kids are sick, I'm right there with them in the feeling like shit department, but is it wrong of me to tell them they can't sleep with me? It's just that I'm in a twin bed with a fabulous pregnancy pillow that rocks and when wiggle butts get in there, they steal all my fleece and flannel and hog the bed. I tell them to go back to their beds. They cry. I cave and hang on for dear life. (I think the finger grip marks add character to the side of the bed. Maybe not so much in the resale part though. Damn.) Should I just add this to the list of other things they can discuss with their therapists?

I really am sorry about the too much information but I needed to get it out. Heh. I would tell people at work but yeah, I see them all the time and telling them about my toots is waaaay different than when I peed myself. Don't ask how, it just is.


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