Baby Goes to Boston

Well, this week was Alistair's second plane ride. What a well-traveled little zygote/fetus/embryo/whatever the heck it is! I still have absolutely zero symptoms and am nervous as hell about it. I'm chugging my favorite 'I can't drink and I'm extremely bitter about it' cocktail, ginger ale and cranberry juice, so that I can do another pregnancy test.


Work functions are a lot less fun when you are Possibly Pregnant. I went to not one but two dinner parties in scenic MA; one at a coworker's home, where she made homemade mojitos and served a heady red wine (brought by a French friend) with steak at dinner; the other, a team building meal at an Irish pub, where everyone drank Guinness and Black & Tan and I silently wept. Luckily, Quiet came up with the BEST excuse ever; I kept telling people my doctor has me on a new migraine trial, so I have to temporarily avoid any caffeine and alcohol. What a great excuse for avoiding both those things! I don't think my boss bought it at ALL (or maybe she was just thinking, 'Oh great, I've got a new burden of an employee who gets stupid migraines'). So basically I just felt sorry for myself the whole week as I played the PP martyr and didn't even have a SINGLE PEPSI. It was torture during the meetings. Everyone else was running around cracked out on Diet Cokes and mini-chocolate bars, and I slumped heavy-lidded with my lame Invisalign braces sipping Sprite Zero. SO LAME.

This child better be extremely smart and well-formed. I am starting to get a sense of why moms are so crazed about kids taking care of themselves. If you're just going to become a teenager and eat junk food and smoke pot, well then, I might as well have a freakin' mojito or two.