Tom took me to see “Titanic” in 3D yesterday. I usually don’t go to 3D if I can help it, but it was pretty well-done. Usually I find the 3D distracting, but this was good. I watched an interview where James Cameron said that it would have to be stunning or he wouldn’t go for it… or something like that. It was stunning.
Won’t be long now and we won’t be able to go on many dates. Not that it matters all that much, we don’t do a whole lot of date nights anyway. Or I should say, every night with Tom is date night. He makes amazing dinners and we snuggle in front of the tv or laptop.
I was SO SICK. I literally did not keep anything down yesterday. Tom brought me breakfast, Hardee’s, in bed. That La Kid is not a fan… Nausea is nothing new, but the puking, omg… the puking. I don’t know when I’ll eat a hash brown again.
We went to the mall and I got a bottle of water, then we went to the movie and Tom bought me a pretzel. The pretzel was good, you know, dry and salty – just a piece of bread, really. I was feeling good, so we moved on to popcorn. I should have known better. How many times have I gotten popcorn and overdone it… and felt sick afterwards when I wasn’t pregnant?! Anyway, thought I could handle it, thought wrong.
Tom cried like a sissy little baby during the movie. He was so cute. It was so much better seeing it this time (beside this sensitive, caring, “I’ll be with you forever” man) than when I saw it the first time (with a huge group of friends, including my crush who didn’t want to sit by me, but instead chose to sit between two other girls who BOTH grew up to be LGBT).
After the movie, we drove around looking at real estate. We really like where we are now, but aren’t sure about buying here. The houses are shoulder to shoulder and the neighborhood is good, not great (although we do have a pool). It was about 10:00 before Tom stopped at a gas station and grabbed some water and crackers. It’s not his fault, I didn’t say anything about the nausea until it was unbearable, and had gotten to the point I put a bag in my lap in case I tossed my cookies. We headed home. He tried to stop and get chicken nuggets – anything to hold me over. “NO. Just take me home.” “Okay.”
At home, Tom served up a single piece of dry toast on the Ratatouille plate that Haley made. It was good. I was feeling good. I sprung for another. Huge mistake. BLUUUUEEECCCCHHHHH!
Felt better afterwards, though.
We both crawled into bed and passed out. My stomach’s not usually this sensitive. It’s quite annoying.
I dreamed that I was packing the guest/baby’s room up to move. There were two dolls that went in clear bags with white zippers, you know, like the kind you get when you buy a new comforter. Anyway… I suddenly hear Gramma Mildred SOBBING… crying hysterically. Grampa is like, “what? What?” And she starts going on about her dolls being ruined. Grampa was like, “well, what happened?” She pointed at me and said, “SHE RUINED IT!” “I put them away,” I said. I looked at the packages and there were 3 locks on one of the dolls’ bags, all 3 different sizes and there were no keys. We could get it off with a bolt cutter, or just cut the plastic bag. There was no consoling Gramma. I felt horrible that she’s that upset and it’s all my fault.
(I only wish people felt that bad when they put a lock on my shit while I was moving. True life.)
The dream was short, a lot shorter than the time it took to type out. I woke up very suddenly and snuggled with Tom. His butt made me forget.
This morning, it’s one slice of toast with grape jelly and a glass of water. I’m at about a 2 on the queasiness scale… we’ll see how that goes.
That La Kid 