I have, however, found a photo that compares Play-Doh to poop in a wonderful, colorful illustration of just how very disgusting things can get while you are in labor.
While you are brimming with anticipation for that post, I will distract you with this one.
Because you know how sometimes? You sign a contract and say you will do something? For example - and this is purely hypothetical, of course - let's say you are contractually obligated to update your blog a certain amount of times per week, except your life is SO DREADFULLY BORING yet still RIDICULOUSLY BUSY? And then you don't update your blog? Then you get a reminder to update your goddamned blog already asshole?
Yeah. So here I am. Updating my goddamned blog.
(Because there will never, ever, be enough jazz hands. It's like Cow Bell.)
(Coincidentally, this is exactly what I am going to look like if I don't wax soon. It is very urgent, friends.)
So anyway. It's about to be Mother's Day. And one might expect me to find that Mother's Day is, like, totally awesome now that I have a squishy baybee.
Exhibit A: Squishy Baybee
Here is my Mothers Day post from last year. And lucky for you I was still blogging at Redbook then so you will be able to enjoy twice the amount of complaining!
It is important to note that Asian Bird Flu was number one last year. May must be a boring month for the media? That they blow a new flu out of proportion every year? Come on - at least pick a new epidemic! The flu is so last year.
(May I suggest a topic: the staggering amount of morons who have babies every day and shouldn't, and how nobody cares because OHMYGOD OCTOMOM and JON AND KATE ARE BREAKING UP, STUPID INFERTILES!)
(I just read through this and I swear, I need to stay on topic. This is ridiculous with parenthesis and randomness. My most sincere apologies.)
OK. Mother's Day. Not really a fan. Just like I don't like Valentine's Day and Sweetest Day: They are just holidays that seem to be created for the purpose of selling cards, flowers and candy.
Call me crazy, but I'd rather get a nice gift or a surprise on a random day. Just to, oh...I don't know...celebrate my general fabulousness?
We will buy gifts for our moms. I will (gladly) take anything free from any restaurant because I have a dirty love affair with food. I will blow raspberries on Olivia's belly to make her smile so that we can get a good picture.
I won't be bitter like I was last year, and the year before. And the year before.
I will remember all my friends who don't get to mock mother's day, and who will probably stay at home and cry (or try not to). And I will keep my fingers crossed that you get some good news soon.
I won't ask every woman I see if they are a mother. Because you never know what someone is going through. And nothing is worse than having just gotten your period/having a failed fertility procedure/having a miscarriage and venturing out for some comfort food, just to be slapped in the face by a seemingly innocent question.
I will appreciate how lucky I am.
But I better get a good gift.
(I'm looking at you, Mark.)