Hey all of you who might stumble across this blog. Sorry about the delay in posting. I've been waiting for Matt to take his turn, but the shine of blogging has lost its luster for my loving husband and he has not been able to come up with something 'acceptable' to blog about. Personally, I think he puts too much pressure on himself to come up with something witty and interesting.So it looks like you'll be hearing from me mostly, which is okay. He's a hard working man who deserves to relax after work and I've got plenty of time. Because I'm just hanging out here, waiting to pop out our spawn.
Speaking of me being pregnant, I still am. Yup, no baby yet. Though I've noticed, since I'm now 8 months pregnant that I can relate to a character in the Star Wars movies that I never thought I'd be able to to relate to. But the other day, it occurred to me that I've become unfortunately like Jabba the Hut. Let me explain.
Like Jabba, I'm now of a large size. And like Jabba, I can't move around very easily. In our flat, our furniture came with it. Our couch is less than comfortable, and lately in order to be able to sit on it comfortably (we don't have much other furniture), I've had to drag in two pillows from our bed to be placed on my back and side (I kind of sit in the corner). And since my temperature changes every other minute, there is also a blanket. So it's not unusual for me to be sitting on my 'throne' all fat and sassy, much like Jabba.
I also have my hot slave whose only job is to fetch things for me. Because I'm having more and more difficulty getting up and down off the couch, my personal slave (much like Princess Leia) fetches things for me. Food, dishes, napkins, small toads that I eat live...whatever my heart desires. And just because it pleases me, he does it all in his gold, skimpy underwear.
And much like Jabba, I've become a bit of a messy eater, I slobber crumbs and sauce all over me and my large worm-like tongue whips around, licking all that's within reach. And also like Jabba, I've started speaking in a language that has only a few words recognizable in the English language. Like when I'm struggling to adjust myself, I may sound something like "grabba...ugha...back...ochy...sore".So there you have it, my unexpected and uncanny resemblance to Jabba the Hut. I've accepted it, there's nothing I can really do about it. And honestly, was Jabba's life that hard? I'd like to put forth that it wasn't. Everyone came to him. He was ablet to conduct his business all from his own personal 'couch', he had his every need taken care of as well as some nice eye candy in his hot slave. I have all those things as well. So I'm not complaining, just stating a fact.
Though I'm honestly not sure how much I can milk this, I mean, Leia did end up strangling Jabba on her own chain. I think I'll try to get things back to normal as soon as Baby Jabba is born, so that my own personal Leia doesn't feel the need to do the same, except with a diaper instead of a chain.
