It's downright nauseating

So I've come down with a minor case of pregnant envy. Let me just peel off the Bugglehubs and explain that, no, I'm not really interested in actually being with child at the moment. What I mean is that several of my friends are currently expecting and each of them still appears to be a fully functioning, normal-looking human being.

I went walking this morning at the Rose Bowl with my friend who's due in June and she's finally looking the part. She is tall - exactly the height I would have chosen for myself, if anyone had bothered to ask - and is gracefully pregnant, whereas I appeared for several months to have a basketball lodged in my lower esophagus. Earlier in her pregnancy I kept drilling her during our strolls: Any cravings to report? Not really. How about nausea? Hmm, not too bad. Shooting pains? Nothing so far.

Damn. I don't want to see anybody suffering, but COME ON. Can somebody throw just a smidgen of acid reflux her way, please? It did occur to me that perhaps she's just not a complainer - that maybe she's been totally miserable but just doesn't want to spread it around (which, I know, would make my pregnant envy even more despicable). But then she tells me today, as we're talking about cooking and eating, that she overindulged this week. FINALLY, I thought, anticipating the worst: an entire chocolate lava cake? A family-sized bag of Cool Ranch Doritos? No, people. It was these chocolate covered almonds from Trader Joe's. ALMONDS? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I wouldn't have eaten almonds if they'd told me my kid would pop out reading. When I was pregnant with Bugglegirl, for dessert I used to chase a half a pound of spice gumdrops with a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips.

OK. You know how sometimes you write something down, and all of a sudden everything appears in perspective? Like where heartburn and fat thighs come from?

Damn.