WARNING: GRAPHIC DETAILS OF MY TUMMY PYROTECHNICS TO FOLLOW. IF YOU ARE WEAK STOMACHED, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Wednesday night, Mr. Moose made an excellent dinner of grilled salmon, green beans and mashed potatoes. Yum. I love the marinade he used and I thoroughly enjoyed my meal, though I wasn’t especially hungry and had been feel “off” all afternoon and into the evening. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was wrong accept to describe that my body felt “heavy” and that I was incredibly tired. During dinner, my dad came by to show off his new “toy”: a 2006 Corvette in Sunset Orange. It was very nice and he was as excited as a kid to show it off. I asked where he was going to put the car seat.
We went about our evening doing a few chores and scraping and crushing pseudo-oreos to make dirt cake for his work even the next day (I seriously think someone needs to start marketing crushed Or*eo in a bag to save me and others like me an hour of scraping the filling off and crushing the chocolately cookies, but who am I to say.)
Long story short, after staying up later than usual because I was just so incredibly uncomfortable, I sacrificed my partially digester dinner to the porcelin god, over and over for several minutes until there was nothing left. Mesquite grilled salmon makes neither a tasty or pleasant looking offering, let me assure you.
Mostly I’ve been hacking up just liquid the last day or so – they say that pregnant women begin to create excess saliva (why? I don’t know) and as I gag, much of that seems to flow forward.
This morning my “breakfast” was a combination of hot cocoa and Cheez-It Reduced Fat Crackers. Bad idea. After trying to find something else in the fridge to add, and throwing out my week-old forgotten hardboiled egg, I raced to the restroom only to hack up that as well. Bad combo when tasted together with stomach ook.
The post-lunch sickness was partially digested broccoli cheddar soup. Really unpleasant the second time around, thank you very much.
On non-disgusting news, last night Mr. Moose and I went to the mall and purchased on fake wedding band for me to wear now that I have outgrown my own. I can finally wear my engagement ring again, albeit on my pinkie finger. The band/engagement ring didn’t fit properly on my pinkie together and so I had just been wearing the band by itself, though I love my engagement ring. However, this looked less like a wedding band and more like a pinkie ring and with my ever-growing midsection, I am self-conscious that I look not married. So I finally “look married” again and I’m happy.
I’m hoping to “invest” in a picture account soon. Maybe you’ll even get pictures of me out of the deal.