If I'm glowing, it's because I'm on FIRE

Who the hell LIKES being pregnant? Your body turns to shit. You can't have a martini. Assholes judge you for drinking Diet Coke. I'm so sick of answering the old, "Are you planning to breastfeed?" Why do people care? They won't be personally responsible if my boy doesn't get the IQ points to get him into Harvard. They're not going to be the ones getting up in the middle of the night to deal with ear infections. And they're certainly not going to be paying out of their own pockets for the OH SO EXPENSIVE FORMULA. (Jesus fucking Christ, if one more person bitches about the cost of formula... What the hell? Is bringing an actual human being into the world supposed to be free? It costs money to feed me. Should it not cost money to feed my kid?)

I walked six miles yesterday and it was like I wasn't even pregnant. Like the baby didn't even care. Like he's all, "Six miles? So what? I don't care. I'm going to hang out longer. I'm going to stay in until they force me out in October."

I'm trying to keep a cool head about this because thinking about it only makes it worse. It probably wouldn't bother me so much if it weren't so fucking hot. This ridiculous heat is making me extremely unproductive. All the stuff that I need to take care of is in the hottest places in my house. I need to do work in my office. Too fucking hot. I need to clean my office. Too fucking hot. I especially need to clean out the garage. Too fucking hot. We are slaves to our bedroom. All we can do is hang out in the bedroom with the air con at full blast.

I am in a crabby mood because, in addition to this heat, I had a gross lunch today.

Since John is still taking his nap and I'm bored, I'm going to keep ranting. You want to open yourself up to a world of judgement? Go ahead and have a kid. EVERYONE will judge you. I do. I judge parents all the time. I think mothers who don't have their children on schedules are stupid. I think mothers who quit having a life because of motherhood are even stupider. And don't even get me started on those fuckers who "love being pregnant." But don't worry. You can be sure that I'll get mine. I will be judged in kind for being selfish, uncaring, crass, etc. But once my kid starts developing into this human being who is smart, independent, thoughtful, helpful, and awesome like his pops, I will have the last laugh.

I could go on about post-partum flabby bellies, the destruction of a sex life, and how I am totally going to use my kid as an excuse to blow off lame social obligations but John just woke up.

Time to get a decent meal.