Basically, I can best describe being pregnant so far as like being really, really stoned. Overstoned.  You’re tired, and you’re hungry, and you have specific food things you want and don’t want, and you get stupid and ask stupid things like "is your cell phone fixed?" after calling someone on their cell phone. Perhaps that is revealing a little of my sordid past (my GOD, though, I came of age in the early nineties, who DIDN’T spend much of that time high?) but there you have it. Stoned, but okay enough to drive to satisfy that midnight Cheeto craving.

Not that I have. I mean, I’ve craved Cheetos BAD, yesterday I forced myself to NOT buy them because right up there with corndogs and stool softener, Cheetos are one hell of an embarrassing purchase for me. I really tried to resist, and I did, until I got to my office and realized I really needed to just succumb, that the best thing for me to get through the day would be more sodium than anyone recommends, so I found 75 cents and went to the snack machine . . . . and my cheetos? WERE EXPIRED.  I could’ve cried.  I got Combos, but let me tell you, COMBOS do not satisfy a Cheeto craving. Ooh, maybe I’ll take them to the party tomorrow, so that I can satiate my craving but not Eat the Whole Goddamn Bag.

I’m stocking up on supplies, too, at a great discount (so far).  I got a KKAFP a month or so ago, not sure if it would fit my boobs, but figuring if it didn’t, it was neutral enough for Dave to wear, a coffee colored fleece.  Sure enough, it fit him way better than me, and he gave the cat a test ride in it.  I found another in a larger size on the FSOT boards at thebabywearer.com , in a great avocado color, and snapped that up yesterday.  I told Dave about it, and he asked "well, what about the brown one?" and I said "oh, that’s yours."  He was SO EXCITED that he had his own.

You know, I think it’s one of those things that maybe not having peers or a dad to set up expectations for you might be a good thing.  Dave is a gentle, loving, fabulous guy, and he thinks the sling is the coolest. thing. ever.  I think popping all 20 pounds of FatKitty in there helped him get the concept right away, even she was pretty cool about it, so it’s good to not have to defend the idea to my own husband, you know?

I also scored a crib today.  Marden’s got a boatload of baby stuff (I think from a Baby Depot that had a Katrina-related insurance loss) and most of it ended up in my mom’s store.  After spending the weekend looking at stuff and talking about what I like and don’t like, and talking about the reviews and stuff, she called today from the store having spied this crib, which retails for 3-400, on sale for 130.  I imagine we’ll cosleep for a while, but I’d like to be prepared in case that doesn’t work out, and for 130, well, that’s a steal. Even if I never use it, I could sell it at that price and someone else would be getting a deal, too. 

So, so far we have a crib, 2 slings, and some receiving blankets and lovey blankets from friends, and a Misfits onesie.  We’re on our way.