Perspective

I haven't been writing anything lately, because, HELLO my life consists of random bouts of nausea and talking to a big, fluffy dog that chases squirrels like it's his job. Some days are better than others, physically and emotionally. Usually, the physical and emotional part go hand in hand. Plus, it makes it even harder that I don't get to see Jake that much because he has been taken hostage by middle school swimming. By the time he gets home at 10 o'clock he is in a zombie-like state and sort of just grunts in my general direction.

So, I have taken to myself and invented ways to keep my brain working and my morale up. One day I thought I would start to organize rooms. I started working on the office (where Jake swears that I am building that popsicle plane) and then of course, like clockwork the 3 p.m. exhaustion attacks me and I must lay down. It is not finished, but I have filled several trash bags and sorted many things into lovely piles. A Brianne Signature move.

If I feel extra ambitious I take a gander outside to the "real world." I always have to be sure to have my sunglasses because the sunlight blinds me and burns my skin. Today, I had big plans to do something great (like everyday). So, I woke up, went downstairs and got a big glass of grape juice. Mmmmmm, this grape juice is good, I think. So, I pour myself another glass and head upstairs to the pile filled, plane holding room to check my email and see what jobs I can apply for and not get.

That's when all of the sudden I feel something funny. Maybe I can fight it off. Nope. It's coming. I run to the bathroom and of course -- projectile purple vomit. (I am sorry for the details). Why does it always seem like when you are throwing up, more comes out of you than went in? (Just a small sidenote, I am convinced that this baby does not like fruit. In the last week I have thrown up strawberries, apples and now grape juice. What kind of baby doesn't like fruit? However, the baby loves french fries.)

Despite the early setback, I started putting on some "real" clothes (those that are not sweatpants and t-shirts) and decided to head out to the library. Yes, that's right the library. The last time I had a library card I was 13, and I am pretty sure that the card catalog was still in use. Now, instead of those tiny little drawers filled with tiny little cards and scrap pieces of paper, there are computers. I actually kind of liked those little drawers and scrap pieces of paper, but now I guess you don't have to worry about someone dumping them out and getting all unalphabetized like in the "Breakfast Club."

Anyways, it was nice to stroll around, but I realized that I had no idea what I wanted to get. I ended up getting some random books about writing and baby names. I did almost pick up a biography of Martha Stewart, but I knew that answering to Jake on that one would take more energy than I have. I would have stayed longer, but the hunger pangs started in, and if I wait too long to feed myself, the dry heaving shortly follows. I did not want my big day out to be ruined with puking at the library.

I came home thinking that I still had half of the day to enjoy, but that stupid mack truck hit me again at 3 p.m. and I slept for 2 hours. WHAT THE HECK? How do women work through pregnancy? I just don't get it.

So, after my second nappies (said in the voice of a hobbit. don't ask) I went upstairs to yet again check my email. That is when Jake sent me a very nice email, that made me put things into perspective (see, he's very verbal and cute when not in a zombie-like state):

"Your life is good you have me and Ozzie, just look at him, I bet he is adorable right now, and you have your Karaoke game*, you have unlocked two new songs, and you have super human smelling capabilities that is neat."

*Oh, yes, I forgot to tell the internet that I have Robby's Karaoke Revolution. One day I played it so long my throat started to hurt. I totally understand what Ashlee Simpson went through. Please don't judge me.