E and I got a certificate of graduation at class tonight. I guess this means I’m now allowed to give birth, although I’m pretty sure they couldn’t have stopped me anyways. I was generally pleased with the class, but didn’t learn much that wasn’t already in What to Expect. I think making people take classes BEFORE they get pregnant would be a better idea. It could be a combination preparedness/maybe-you-should-think-about-this-a-little-more/teen birth control class. I’d start by showing them my nipples.

I had a very vivid and incredibly weird dream last night where, through some sort of X-Men-like mutant electrical field anomaly, I was suddenly carrying twins. But the second baby wasn’t mine. And since I was a little less than thrilled with being repeatedly kicked in the cervix by someone else’s responsibility, the overlords of Babytown threw me into pregnant woman prison “for my own good”. I think it may have been run by the evil president from 24. My days consisted of sleeping on a pile of hay and being told what a bad mother I was for drinking soda, eating cheese puffs, watching Rock Of Love Bus, not knowing all the words to “Hush little baby”, painting the nursery while pregnant, not using cloth diapers, yelling at my dog for staring at me, enjoying really tasteless jokes, and failing to scrapbook every moment of my pregnancy and upcoming baby’s life.

My subconcious obviously needs a vacation.