Before this morning, I never really considered the amusement factor of a silicon nipple. I should have payed more attention when the Boy was trying to teach me about p0rn, I guess, cause it just didn't occur to me that any person could be fascinated by one. The Munchkin's been playing with this object for the past two hours. Crawl around, suck, chew thoughtfully, crawl around some more, bang her chubby knees against the carpet, remove the nipple to eat a veggie puff, and then chew thoughtfully on the nipple some more.

Why is this?

And, why is my mind so thoroughly in the gutter this morning? I heard from the Boy. He said that his mouse just died. Immediately I decided to take the dirtiest possible conotation of this- mind you, my mind isn't really that dirty compared to some of the other people I know. Maybe it's just hormones. Hormone Terrorists. With little tampon-shaped dart guns.

One of my good friends is getting to be very pregnant. This is opposed to being only Slightly Pregnant, which is like saying that she's a little knocked up. Another three months and she will graduate to the realm of Very Pregnant, which is also commonly referred to as the Beached Whale Phenomenom. I say this out of love, hon. It's not a slam on you, it's just a Female Thing. Even those women lucky enough not to bloat on a lunar cycle have discovered that there is a day when you feel so big and bloated and fat and icky that you honestly expect a knock on the door from Greenpeace to drag you back to the ocean. This is obviously a disadvantage of living so near SeaWorld.

I've really been able to commiserate with my inner hormonal terrorist, since this week I'm doing the Fake Morning Sickness thing. For those of you lucky enough to have never heard of it, it's a thing I do a couple times a year. It's all the fun and excitement of morning sickness without the baby. Lucky for me it only lasts a week, and this was once a source of some consternation when I was first dating the Boy. "Are you *sure*?" some people would ask me. Uh, yeah. I'm sure. As I found out a while back, the fake stuff really did make it easier for me to have the real thing. Kinda like training for the Olympics of Nausea. Certainly easier than watching Martha Stewart Living nonstop for three weeks. However, one of the neat things I discovered at that PARADISE is ginger tea. Which I'd heard about before, only I'd never done anything about it. I'm here to report that I've only puked once this morning, and I haven't tossed up my breakfast yet. Or my pill cocktail. Which is making my emotional side extremely happy.