No more tacos

Ouch.

Pants fitting tight is not cool. Especially when all of my jeans are at other houses being washed. J got me these Paris Blues pants 2 years ago and they're tight right over the baby. Loose around the waist and all, but not comfortable. Tomorrow I'll probably wear the pants I bought when I was working at Marie Callender's - they were too big to start with. Screw it, as soon as it's warm enough out I'm wearing hippie skirts. skirt. I have but one.

I hate having low blood sugar. Makes me all shaky and I run into things. I get it about every 20-30 minutes, too. Oh, what joy.

No. More. Tacos. Last week I was eating tacos for almost every meal, for who knows how many days. Then I got a virus from D and threw up a few times last Monday. I haven't been interested in them since. I had one today - J had been talking about making cheeseburgers and even thought I didn't really want one I was up for eating part of J's..... turned out to actually be a taco. I wasn't really paying attention. But as soon as I took a bite my brain went TACO MEAT! and I had to have one. Right then. So J made me one (I should have asked for no hot sauce..) and as soon as I finished it I felt queasy. I didn't want to eat anything for another 2 hours (Remember, I've been eating every 20-30 minutes - still managed to lose weight. Crazy, neh?). So, no more tacos. Not for the next several months anyway.

All the extra hunger has only just come about this week - well, mostly. This week I've actually been eating when I'm getting shaky since now I know why. It turns out its better for me to eat than to ignore it. So, this poses a problem since I have to go back to work tomorrow. I forsee lots of peanut butter sandwiches in my future. Now, how to get the entire gallon of milk to work and keep it all to myself...

My mom, J's mom, J's sister, and J's sister-in-law all want me to have a girl. J's actually admitted that he thinks the chances of it being a girl are greater, but he still wants a boy. His family is trying to convince him that it'll be a girl, and that he'll learn what "Daddy's girl" really means.

I want 4 kids. Boy, girl, girl, boy, preferably. 4's just the number that's been put on my heart. I haven't told J that, I'm scared it'll freak him out. But, one day we were talking about kids, and he said he was thinking 4 or 5. So, that works out. Why do I want boy, girl, girl, boy? Because every girl needs a sister to share clothes with, a big brother to protect her, and a little brother to make her laugh.