What I would give for a margarita...

We dropped Tim, Kat and Logan off at the airport in Boston last night. Poop. I was really not looking forward to it for a few reasons:

1. Tim, Kat and Logan were leaving.
2. We were driving to Boston at 6 pm. Traffic. Yuck.
3. Dominic has been unhappy with my dinner choices the past few nights and has decided to kick my stomach as hard as possible until it is empty...sucks enough when I am spending the time in the morning on the bathroom floor, but the night time in a parking lot (usually where it happens...) just doesn't work for me. Now I was going to be fighting this while on my way to Boston. Interesting.
4. I was going to miss American Idol for the second night in a row.

So, they left. I do have to say, because I love them and know they will understand, that there is some relief in not having a toddler in my house anymore. Although Logan is really a wonderful child, my house is not child proof. I thought we were in good shape. Dennis and I walked around and tried to imagine what we would do if we were Logan, and apparently we sucked at that. He was able to find everything that was wrong with having a child in my house. Although that was stressful, it was also helpful to see how much I am going to suck at being a toddler mom. Something I can work on over the next year and a half.

Traffic. Oh how we were dreading traffic. AMAZINGLY there was no traffic. How that is possible, I will never understand. It made my day. It even made up for reason number 3 for dreading the Boston trip.

Dominic better be a soccer star. Or Olympic track and field athlete. This child is crazy. Sometimes he is satisfied with my food choice and allows me the pleasure of digestion and other times feels it would be in my best interest (at least that is what I tell myself...) to kick my stomach as hard as he can until it is empty. He does this every morning. No exaggeration, but I eat every morning...why you ask? Well, have you ever thrown up nothing? That is THE MOST PAINFUL experience of my pregnancy to this point. It takes me a while to recover from that. I would rather have something in my stomach to expel. Anyway, Dom shows no AM mercy...but usually allows me some nourishment at lunch. Then we have dinner. He is so unpredictable with dinner. I can go weeks without a dinner issue...and then he will do it everyday for a week. I just never know. It doesn't matter what I eat either. I was drinking ginger ale and eating saltines for dinner one night, because I had thrown up for like 5 nights in a row...and I still got sick. So I figure if I am going to get sick on the food that every doctor tells you to eat so you don't get sick, I might as well eat something that tastes good. We are currently in a week of Dom frustration. We had to stop half way to the airport last night so I could throw up in a gas station parking lot, and in a Newport Creamery parking lot the night before and the same gas station on the way to the airport when we picked them up. Classy. People probably think I am an alcoholic. I wish it was alcohol causing this. What I would give for a margarita...

Finally, I was going to miss my second night of American Idol. Since Tim and Kat hate American Idol, and although I am currently slacking with my compromising ability, I sacrificed on Tuesday and played Rock Band instead. For those of you that have never been pregnant, (or maybe it is just me, I don't know...I am blaming it on pregnancy) everything is just so much more dramatic. It really can be the end of the world if you are not able to watch a TV show that you want to watch or sit at the table you want to sit at in a restaurant or if your husband drives to the crappy CVS instead of the good CVS. Yesterday was one of those days for me. I NEEDED to watch AI (American Idol). Well guess what? I got to! Yay! There was no traffic, so we were home right at 8. It was amazing. AI was less than thrilling...I just don't like the girls this year. Except for for Carly. But we can save that for another blog.

So there you go a small glimpse into my head...pray for Dennis.