A Detailed Report of My Couch

If I thought I was boring before...oh. I laugh at my Starbucks-going, yoga-y, traveling old self. I WAS LIVING SUCH A LIFE!

Now I mostly rotate between my bed and couch. I am on modified bed rest because I have an irritable uterus. Which mostly reminds me of Charlotte's depressed vagina on "Sex and the City," and I wish my doctor would prescribe Xanax for my effing uterus, but noooo. I am to drink lots of water and rest, which is easier said than done with a normal four-year-old and a Funasaurus who is currently traveling weekly for his stupid job.

So far, I am having lots of contractions but they don't seem to be changing anything other than my mood. Baby is safe, and that is a relief, but I am getting a little annoyed that going all the way to the bathroom causes my stomach to seize up. Getting Miss Thang to preschool requires an hour or two of recovery time from the tightness.

I do try to appreciate that I otherwise have a healthy pregnancy (did I tell you it's another girl?) and a great support network.

Sometimes I still like to kvetch.

We moved Miss Thang upstairs to her big girl room over the weekend. That was a project that I mostly participated in from an ordering-pink-and-purple-decor from my phone stance, seeing as how I could not really help with the heavy lifting or even the climbing of stairs. It turned out to be very Lisa Frank-inspired, with the bright colors (Miss Thang does not do pastel, which is a fairly accurate description of her personality, as well) but she is happy, so we are happy. Then The Funasaurus left for a work trip and Miss Thang keeps calling me to come check on her. I told her through the monitor that I could not climb the stairs again so soon after she kicked me out, when I tried to lie down in her room. She wailed. I failed. But now she's asleep and I am nursing some Halloween candy and trying to type this from a reclined position. Here's hoping she sleeps through the night.

It's really too easy to buy shit from your phone these days. I have about doubled our Christmas ornament collection whilst simultaneously contracting arthritis in my thumb. Also, I know a lot more about celebrity gossip than I ever did before. I need to go back to a simpler time with a clunky old Nokia phone that is only capable of making phone calls and a stack of trashy magazines.

I read a good book called Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking and would recommend it to anyone, although after 368 pages I am still not sure what I really classify as. I think it boils down to, do you draw your energy from being around other people, or do you recharge by being alone? Because apparently there can be some very gregarious introverts and shy extroverts. The problem is, I would have to answer "yes" to both of those questions. I miss social contact desperately, but then I get out and around occasionally and I find people annoy me more now than they ever did before. I believe bed rest is turning me into a certified curmudgeon. Get the fuck off my porch, ruffians, and please come back with Starbucks and a witty recounting of what those ol' Kardashians are up to these days.

That's all I've got. I am lame but grateful to be healthy. There is no reason I shouldn't be updating this thing daily at this point, except for the whole, I'VE GOT NOTHING to write about-thing. But when did that ever stop me before?