Today, Freebird is 18 months old. Yay Freebird! A full-on toddler with tantrums just around the corner - because if there’s one thing he inherited from his parents, it would be The Stubbornness. And also, the Monster Gas. I think he jet propelled himself up the stairs last night.

But also, today is the day that Baba O’Riley saw fit to deliver unto me not one, but TWO majorly pleasant symptoms of pregnancy: my already-entrenched sciatica met up with her good friend heart burn today, and oh, it’s a party in my torso, so bring the hot sauce. I feel like laying down the law and saying that Baba only gets one problem per week, and this week’s problem was already used up. But I don’t think the trotting-to-the-lavatory problem was Baba O’Riley’s fault, so maybe this week we get heart burn for fun and giggles.

Pass the Zantac OMG. 

Had a bit of a yucky morning - suffice it to say that I didn’t really want to be far, far away from the lavatory this AM, and was not looking forward to my commute. The bathrooms at the Port Authority Bus Station? Egads.

I just had the following conversation with my completely not hungry stomach, which, for the record, is located immediately above and is somewhat compressed by a 21 week fetus that would like food very much, kick kick.

Sarah: “Here. Have toast. And shut up.”

Stomach: “RWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOORRRRRGG mumbrle frumrk gnserk.”

Sarah: “Seriously. Toast. Take this, and shut the hell up because people in the next BUILDING can HEAR YOU.”

Stomach: “GUUURRRRGGGGLLLLLLE burrrrrrsluuuuurrrrk murklunker huknnurth.”

Sarah: “HOLY CRAP TAKE THE TOAST. And yogurt. And flat Coke. And please, be quiet.”

Stomach: “...”

Sarah: “THANK GOD.”

Stomach: ”

GRAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

Sarah: “Darn.”

I have two horrible, mean, and evil thoughts while watching Antiques Roadshow:

1. Hubby is going to be 1% less manly for every minute I have this on while he’s in the room.

2. People who talk about the origin of the stuff in their homes are unspeakably, horribly boring. I seriously don’t care about the provenance of your great-great-great grandmother’s toothpick collection. But if it’s worth a lot, I better see your eyes fall out of your boring head. Because damn, some random piece of stuff is worth a crapton of money? That’s kinda cool.

EDITED TO ADD:

Anyone else who watches these shows just get dumbfounded when someone lugs something flipping HUGE into the showroom? Like, here’s a woman with weird hair and a busted up leg and she’s got her big ass dining room table and it’s only worth three grand.

And alllright! It’s not Antiques Roadshow without a Indian Head. And a guitar.

With my extensive medical knowledge (aka Dr. Google) I’ve decided that my problems are, in order, and relatedly, 1. Sciatica being a right bitch, 2. nausea and 3. Fatigue. The fatigue is definitely related to #1 since I didn’t sleep well, having dreamt off and on that people were chasing me and stabbing me in the back. Ow. The sciatica is pregnancy related since I had similar problems when pregnant with Freebird. And the nausea, who the hell knows. Maybe its all related, maybe not.

But seriously, not being able to say, “I have a problem and my problem is _____” is very frustrating because I can’t really DO anything to fix my problems. I can keep my back straight but I can’t take any medication that would reduce the inflammation because I’m allergic to any over the counter medicines that would do that. I certainly can’t take muscle relaxers. I can apply cold but not heat too much, and unfortunately I can’t avoid sitting in a chair, either.

Whine whine whine. I want Dr. Google to spit out a perfect solution to my problems. And Dr. Google is telling me that either I have sciatica (duh) or malaria. Why is it that any searches for symptoms and disease result in malaria from Dr. Google?

Shit, maybe I have malaria. 

Last night I felt like so much doody that I was in bed, in my jammies, by 7pm. Hubby was nice enough to bring me a bowl of cereal to eat, and I chilled out for the evening, moving around as little as possible. I went to sleep at 830.

Around 11pm I woke up having a full blown panic because I’d had some vivid wackass dream. I calmed down, went back to sleep… and had the same freaking dream! I woke up every few hours, not sure if I was awake or not, unable to get comfortable because by this time my sciatic nerves were having bad dreams, too. Seriously. It was miserable.

As I said to Hubby this morning: I like to eat, I like my bed, and I like to sleep. I can’t eat much because I’m nauseous, and I can’t lie in bed because my back hurts, and I can’t sleep because I have scary dreams. Seriously. THIS SUCKS.

Last night Hubby and I tried a new kind of ravioli that we found at Costco - a smoked mozzarella and herb filling. It was not good - I barely ate four pieces. So my dinner last night consisted of a bottle of water, 3.5 pieces of ravioli, and a small cookie.

This was DUMB. Not because I was hungry and decided to starve myself or anything like that - I actually wasn’t that hungry and that mozzarella filling turned me off totally.

No, I woke up this morning feeling like dookie because I hadn’t eaten enough last night. I was past the point of hungry into spinningly nauseated, and driving through the Lincoln Tunnel at 30 mph in a bus with the lights ... from… the… walls… going… by… one… by… one… past my peripheral vision didn’t help in the least. I ended up with sunglasses on in the dark tunnel with my hands over my eyes to keep the moving lights out of my vision, and staggered to my office to consume anything I could get my hands on.

Now I’m focused on ignoring my stomach’s threats of “I’m going to throw up and I’m not kidding” and feeding it anyway, kind of like when Freebird says he doesn’t want his cup but when I give it to him, he starts chugging on it like he’s never had milk before - even while saying, “NO!” with his mouth around the cup. My stomach is being a toddler and I won’t put up with it - the belly gets food whether the belly likes it or not. I have too much to do today to be feeling ill.

Meanwhile, Baba O’Riley has been practicing for Cirque du Soleil tryouts, so at least someone is enjoying my array of small breakfast sample foods. 

I just got an email from Apple’s Store, saying that with my “educational discount” I can “save big” before summer vacation starts.

The big savings? “Up to $100.00.”

Wow. Knock me down with those big savings, given how overall expensive Apples are.

Sheesh.