no quiero taco bell

Note to the pregnants: don't listen to that crazy chihuahua.

I forced myself out to Target this morning. Yesterday, my morning (ha- morning) sickness was minimal. I don't know if it was the massive heart attack in the morning and the resulting couch coma in the afternoon that distracted me, but I felt okay. (By okay, I mean not gagging ALL day and eating from two food groups.) I told J this morning, when I awoke pretty sure I'd been transplanted onto a rocking, barf inducing cruise ship while I slept, that I think Cinco is pissed. "You're not going to have faith that I'm in here and doing well? You wanna freak out like that? FINE! Here I am! Happy now?" Hoo, boy. It's been one of those days where showering is only possible from the comfort of my bum on the questionably clean shower floor. But I needed things, so to Target I went. I wound up in the grocery department for bread (amazing how many loafs you burn through eating toast for all three meals) and my stomach rolled. I needed food, and nothing healthy was remotely appealing. Really, just thinking of anything healthy made me gag over the grassy spot in the Target parking lot.

To Taco Bell I went. I'd get tomatoes in my taco and call it a veggie serving. Big mistake. Just the smell was enough to make my stomach audibly grumble, and I ate it anyway. Not good. The experience reminded me of my mom, 18 years ago, pregnant with my baby brother. Bless her heart, sick as could be, she took my sister and I to the mall and (at our begging, whining, and pleading I'm sure) took us to Arby's for lunch. We were just settling in at our table when mom dropped our tray and BOLTED. I can still see her long, permed hair and stone washed maternity jeans rounding the corner, away from Arby's and her two bewildered daughters, en route to the completely inconvenient bathroom at the far corner of Kirkwood Mall. I remember looking at my side pony tailed little sister, obliviously digging into the curly fries, and wondering in my eight year old mind why on EARTH anyone would want a baby in their tummy if public puking were a part of it. So thank goodness I did the drive through thing, and the gagging was done with only the cats as my witnesses. On that note, I nap.