Well, I made it back from New York with zero babies born on a train or in Sara’s apartment. Spending time with someone other than my dog and my couch was fun and I’m glad Baby E stayed put long enough for this trip but DEAR GOD am I done with pregnancy. I don’t know how I had imagined getting around the city (flying carpet? teleportation? seriously, science, get on that) but none of the available modes of transportation were very comfortable. My pelvis barely fit through the subway turnstile and even my athletic sneakers gave me blisters. I have no idea how women who actually live in New York handle being pregnant – but based on the number of strollers I saw they must do it somehow.

Now that I’m home and on my couch even walking to the fridge for a Diet Coke seems waaaay too far. I am irrationally angry that E has duty and won’t be home until tomorrow. How dare he provide for our family that way! Doesn’t he know I am having a Diet Coke emergency? Thank God I live in Suburbia, the land of cars and full sized grocery stores and houses instead of walk-up apartments. I used to say I lived “walking distance” from my itty bitty city’s downtown (post office, YMCA, two restaurants, one bar) but as of right now I barely live walking distance from my own bathroom. “Walking distance” has been stricken from my vocabulary until I no longer waddle.

BUT I got my Pad Thai, this book signed by Heather Armstrong, a day with Sara and I even got to meet the lovely h_a_l, the first internet friend I’ve ever met in real life. She brought Baby E an awesome onesie that I can’t wait to horrify my family with. Thanks Holly! I’ll post a picture as soon as the baby decides he’s tired of being naked and wants to join the rest of us out here in the world. This is how desperate I am to have a baby – I’m ready to bribe him with fashion. Since he’s genetically half E, maybe I should try holding a beer between my knees instead.