Ever since my husband got my eggo preggo, peeps have been mad kind, yo. My brother took me out to dinner and didn’t even make fun of me when I ate all of the bread that was “for the table.” He then surprised me with my go-to-craving, raisin-filled cookies. THEN he treated me and the rest of my fam to ice cream.
Yeah, I’m going to be 900 pounds in April.
The adorable Bea from Kid Teez sent the fetus this onesie that would make both of my grandfathers proud:
Sure, I wish I could have eaten the onesie, but still. If you have a moment, why not connect with Kids Teez on Facebook and inquire as to whether edible onesies actually exist. And if you’re in the market for some miniature swag, check them out on Pinterest and Twitter. Maybe Bea will hook you up, too! But let me be clear: to my knowledge, you cannot eat the onesies.
As if all of that goodness weren’t enough, I had heard through the grapevine that the fine people at Aiming Low were looking for staff writers. Since I am denied for writing gigs more often than Charlie Sheen hears “it’s $500 for the first hour,” my hopes weren’t exactly high.
But I hiked up my
granny big girl panties and emailed the head boss lady. The conversation went like this:
Me: I’m desperate. Please hire me. I’m funny. I promise. (a paraphrase)
Boss lady: I’ve heard good things about you. I hope you don’t suck. (word-for-word what she wrote)
To say that I was flattered, humbled, and excited that she knew I existed would be an understatement. To say that I felt like I was going to puke from the pressure was pretty accurate.
So when I was welcomed as a new staff writer (WEEEEE!), I assumed it was because everyone at Aiming Low wanted to do something nice for ol’ Preggers. But that’s silly. They would’ve just sent me a cake.
My first piece on Aiming Low, “I’m Sorry I’m Not Sorry,” is up today, and I would be forever grateful if you could head over there and show it some love. You can click the title above or HERE! You’re swell and I appreciate you.