I’m not going to apologize for the lack of posting, structure, or general theme to my recent updates. Those of you who understand morning sickness, all day, for sixteen weeks, are impressed that my current children are still alive. Forget about this silly blog, which needs no food. But to those of you who echo the sentiments of my baby sister (at dinner a few weeks ago), sounding something like this: “You know I can’t even remember the last time I had the flu. I just can’t imagine, or even remember really, what you must feel like. And since I never really get sick, I honestly don’t think I’ll have a rough pregnancy,” I would like to paint a word-picture that the migraine prevented me from creating that night when I politely agreed that your pregnancies would probably be easy, and silently prayed for the ability to projectile puke all over you across the table at that very moment.
The UnderToad 