Our neighbor offered me a San Pelligrino Limonata the other afternoon while hanging out with the kids in her backyard. I jumped on the offer knowing it to be an incredible thirst-quencher in a charming fat bottomed bottle. Walking home about 30 minutes later I thought “I am not feeling well. What did I have for lunch?” Then I remembered the lemonade I had a couple of weeks ago and realized my stomach had once again rebelled.
I had no aversions or sickness when pregnant with Arlo. I had wicked heartburn toward the end but otherwise it was a truly blissful pregnancy from start to finish. So with this extremely mild and avoidable side effect, along with feeling generally spread out, soft and unattractive, I am thinking only one thing:
Because girls make you sicker longer.
Because girls give you acne, lopsided boobs and darker areolas.
Because girls steal your beauty.
Because girls are nothing but trouble.
Arrrrgggh. I can’t believe that I’m subscribing to this bunk. I’m ashamed of myself. Why would I put all this baggage on my unborn child? “You were always a problem, even in the womb!” And yet I can’t get it out of my mind.
Because I’m lazy I am hoping for another boy. There it is. Full stop. Also having once been a little girl, I can tell you I did not enjoy it, not one little bit (except for my Holly Hobbie shirt which was awesome). This has everything to do with my childhood and not my gender but still, I think the road is longer and harder for girl babies. I believe it. I’d like to avoid the whooooole thing. When it comes to the sex talk I just want to be able to say “Don’t stick it in anyone without a condom. Got it?” and then go out for astronaut pizza in our telepod.