07 December 2012

Weekend linkage [also, post #900]

Jared: Look, the government can do whatever it wants with Social Security. All I want is the ability to opt out!
Irene: Or you could move to Washington and smoke pot. Then it wouldn't bother you as much.

Me: You need anything at the grocery store?
Jared: Booze.

Pregnancy happenings: Huff puff. I'm now panting after just two flights of stairs or a brisk uphill walk, which makes sense, since the baby is now supposedly larger than a papaya. Things have to be getting cramped in there.

Hungry as usual! I've discovered that tuna salad (a can of albacore + mayonnaise + Dijon mustard), several thick slices of cheese, and some raw vegetables make a very satisfying lunch. I know, I know, pregnant women aren't supposed to eat a lot of tuna. Guess I should cook some chicken to mix things up.

Midwife visit yesterday. For those of you who like numbers, here are the stats: 7 pounds total weight gain, baby's heart rate is 140, and I'm measuring 23 centimeters. In other words, everything is exactly on track for a healthy little one and a healthy mama.


Speaking of healthy mamas-- or not, in this case-- I hear that Kate Middleton is in the hospital with hyperemesis gravidarum. Poor girl. Growing a royal baby must be enough of a circus without IV fluids to top things off. (Also, "Why Aren't We Calling It the Royal Fetus?")

On that note of health, the Japanese Pepsi contingent has some very interesting ideas about what constitutes "good for you."

What, is it not normal to have a conversation with your food's packaging? Nobody told me.

My friend Shannon just wrote a very true, very challenging, and very practical post on women and social media. "Although I am not promised that I will someday live in the Pinterest-perfect house with the Facebook-perfect family, I am promised something far better: that I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

These magnets are cool, though I'm not about to bust my piggy bank for a set.

And now, Jared's new favorite song! (NAY, I JEST . . . I am the guilty party here.)

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