24-36ish Hours. And Counting...

I have been in a horrible funk for the last 24-36ish hours. Joe swears that it's been longer but who's counting? Oh wait, the person who has to be around me is. Poor guy. I just can't seem to get out of it. I blame hormones and the fact that I've had a craving for something that I just can't place my finger on (therefore, it has gone unsatisfied) and an unsatisfied pregnant woman is not exactly the most chipper person to be around.

There have been a few highlights, though, and a few things to look forward to.

Last night, Joe made me laugh so hard that not only was I crying, but I snorted numerous times and got to the point that my laugh didn't even sound like my laugh anymore. It wasn't even a chuckle. Or a kackle. It was a hurt-your-abs-I'm-glad-I'm-not-in-public-because-this-is-so-not-cute kind of laugh. It was the kind of laugh that only comes out for special occasions. I can't even remember what I was laughing at but it felt good. Subsequently, I noticed that my belly now shakes like Santa Clause when I laugh really hard.

Joe's birthday is tomorrow. The BIG 2-7. It's going to be a big year for him- you know, him becoming a father and all- and I'm really excited that I get to share it with him. Not to mention, he's damn cute and I like having him around to make me laugh. Don't tell him, but I found a few grey hairs this weekend (literally, like two hairs) around his temples and I think they're supa dupa hot. Hottie McHotterson, that boy is. And he's mine. Mine, all mine, all mine.

I was picking up Hottie McHotterson's birthday card at my favorite little shop that houses the best just-for-no-reason gifts and I stumbled upon the mother load of pregnancy nirvana. CALORIE. FREE. CHOCOLATE. BARS. WITH BACON. AND SEA SALT. Just kidding about the zero-calorie part. They're totally loaded with 'em. And they cost EIGHT! dollars. Those five pounds that the doctor told me to gain? Yeah, consider it dooonnneeeeee. But, honestly, nirvana for 8 bucks? I'll take 5.

What else? Oh yeah. I can't believe I actually forgot this. We're finding out if our little bob nugget is a Marlo or a Jude on Friday!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That basically tops everything. Sure, Joe is inching closer to 30 (big deal) and I can barely talk because I'm too busy filling my belly with something that should seriously be illegal (bigger deal because, hellooo, I freaking found my nirvana!); but, finding out something else about our little beaner is by far the coolest thing to happen to me to date. Better than spandex pants. Better than a birthday. Better than a chocolate covered bacon bar. Better than anything, really.


I think I just got out of my funk.