Mom to Bee

I am falling apart.

Almost kind of literally.

See, last night I had a delicious dinner at a local Pacific NW-known establishment (it rhymes with SchmIvar’s), and I’m pretty sure that they served me death (or) aids (or, maybe more realistically) some bad seafood.

All I know is that ever since I woke up this morning, I’ve had poo shooting energetically out my ass.

Yes, I said it. Energetically.

No pain, no cramping, but basically a firehose of poo water reminiscent of you-know-what.

On top of that, I haven’t eaten anything today in fear that any food may somehow remain intact and I have to endure an entire whole bagel being forced out my butthole at roughly the speed of light.

Not fun, my friends. Not fun.

Oh and did I also mention that I totally sprained (Google MD diagnosis) a ligament in my food (or my FOOT, if you want to be all spell-checky and whatnot, geesh!) by sitting on it wrong.

Yep.

I’m so fat that I broke (okay fine, it didn’t break) my own foot.

Laugh it up, Chuckles. Laugh. It. Up.

And the pièce de résistance is that I was (okay, and still am a little even though my basal temp says differently) completely convinced that I am knocked up.

This last week or so I’ve been nauseous, light-headed, and totally exhausted. In fact, my really horrible blogging the last few days is a direct result of my napping during Bee’s nap times instead of blogging.

But just for shits and giggles, I thought I would look up the side effects of the new medication that I’ve been taking for the last two weeks (see a correlation yet, people?).

So…yeah.

The medication’s side effects are pretty much EVERY. SINGLE. pregnancy symptoms minus having a goddamn fetus in my uterus.

Super.

To end on a high note, I got to see the musical Wicked last week and it was, for a lack of a better term, wicked. But for serious, it was truly amazing and I recommend it to anyone who loves, well, anything. It’s that good.

Also, a quick shout out to the Mom to Bee reader in the cream colored cable knit sweater who was sitting a few rows over from Sissy and I. My dear old Dad pointed you out to me and I was going to go introduce myself, but then I chickened out.

You’re welcome.

Song title: Weakness of the Body by Judy Torres

Because I have nothing else for you until poo starts to explosively shoot out of my butt this evening (and, oh yes, I will be blogging from the toilet), please enjoy a text conversation I had with my Sissy last night as I sat around waiting for a wedding to end.

Sissy: Watcha doin 2morrow?

Me: Starving myself and shooting poo out my ass. You?

Sissy: Oh, yeah. Sorry to be missing out on *that* parade!

Me: You could come down and watch! Front row seats! Bring your face shield and nose plugs.

Sissy: I was gonna say I could be your right hand man. Ew, I even gross myself out.

Me: Luckily for you, my right hand does all the wiping. PS: It’s colder than my vagina outside. Brrr!

Sissy: I’ll trust you on that vag temp. Call me later or 2morrow when u r on the crapper.

Ahh, the sweet words of love from one sister to another.

I ::heart:: my Sissy.

Song title: A Text Message To The So-Called Emperor by Project 86