Today, I sold a little piece of my soul and joined a wholesale club. BJ’s to be exact, since it’s the only one around. I then spent 90 minutes walking around going “Look they have St. Ives Apricot Scrub! In six packs!” and “Wow, look at the giant cans of olive oil! For $17!!” and “Is that really a ten pound bag of M&M’s?”

Our next purchase is going to have to be an extra freezer for the basement so I have somewhere to keep my giant bags of mini-quiches and jalapeno poppers. And of course some shelves for diapers and baby wipes, which is the real reason we joined.

I feel like I should just give in and buy a minivan and one of those soccer magnets. Or is the short haircut and mom jeans the next step?

One of the things some pregnant women go on and on about is the very strange, very vivid dreams. My dreams have always been pretty weird so it hasn’t been too much of a shock, but last night I dreamed about a chocolate donut so delicious I woke up feeling like I had actually eaten it. The dream wasn’t about food – it was actually about protecting 5 year old future Tiny E from some sort of religious zealots – but at one point we stopped for a snack. Obviously, they weren’t very  fast religious zealots. The Dunkin’ Donut cashier suggested their new, European-style, extra pure chocolate cream filled one. And I will never have a real life donut as wonderful as that imaginary one. All pastry has been ruined for me, probably forever, but it was worth it for that (completely guilt and calorie free) donut.