OK, so the “Be nice to me, I’m pregnant” shirt is out of stock, which is unfortunate, since crying is totally the new nausea. Woah nelly. Did I say crying? Oh wait – maybe I meant sobbing uncontrollably in a reaction to being asked where we should eat lunch. You would have sworn a relative had died. Oh you silly hormones, off ruining my Saturday afternoon. Thanks, hormones!
We can all sigh in relief, though, as Google suggestions is there for us, yet again! #1, baby!
Though, I will admit that the “breastfeeding” and “bottle feeding” don’t give me much longterm comfort. I keep asking my wife when the book says this sort of thing will stop. The book likes to point out when symptoms start, and then dozes off, forgetting to tell you when (if?) they might ever end. And “intercourse” is #2? Where do I sign up to thank my lucky stars I don’t have to Google THAT!?
Contrary to Google’s suggestion results, I’m not worried about how Vegas feels about the sobbing, which seems to be the popular concern. No, I’m more worried what my wife and the strangers at Panera think – does that already make me a bad parent? Crap.