maybe i should rub my face in johnson's baby shampoo

the crying continues, even through the crappy new singles debuted by the american idol finalists last night (who picked those songs???). i got teary at the sight of our newly decluttered living room last night. if kleenex made adult-sized bibs to catch adult-sized pity-fests and marketed them to pregnant women, they'd make a fortune (you know, bigger than the one they already have).

i also cried over all the kind responses to my whining, offering clothes and support and braxton-hicks advice. luck has not seemed like much of a resource since hans died, but i feel truly lucky to be connected to this community.

and in case you've worried, i did find two shirts (out of the 30 or so i tried on) the other night - at 40% off! - and catherine is sending me more, so i will not go naked or be confined to the house. also, the braxton-hicks continue, but they're not regular, and they clearly are most present after i've exerted myself, so i'm giving up marathons and competitive weight-lifting for the duration. see? everything is going to be fine.

now if i could just stop being convinced every other minute that something is wrong with milo...

i'm going home to exert myself only the tiniest bit (must mop the floors one more time before my mom arrives tomorrow) and then i plan to ingest all two hours of the sure-to-be-anti-climatic idol finale. i'll be the one sniffling on the couch when the camera shows their parents' tears of pride and joy.