Number of times I woke up to pee last night:  five.  5!  FIVE!

And someone out there is probably going to tell me to not have anything to drink before I go to bed, to which I will reply, I am so unbelievably thirsty at all times that I drank three bottles of water the other evening and still couldn’t have produced enough saliva to lick a stamp.  Not that anyone licks stamps anymore, but I’m sure there is someone out there licking her 2 cent stamps to make up the difference for the last three times the price has gone up.  Just sayin’. 

Anyway, I’m thirsty.  And so I drink.  And then I pee.  It’s a vicious cycle and it makes me want to cry every time I have to get out of that cozy bed.  Especially during the times that I dream that I have to pee and then dream that I am actually sitting on the toilet and then ALMOST REALLY PEE IN MY BED!  I’ve had some close calls, but so far the sheets have remained dry — with the exception of Tony’s bald-man sweat.  Not to change the subject, but evidently, that’s what I’m all about today.  This morning I went to kiss Tony good-bye like I do every morning when he is still in bed, and when I kissed his head my lips were drenched with head sweat!  Not like damp, clamminess, but like DRENCHED, SALTY, SWEAT!  It was so gross.  I guess my point is that maybe I should just wet the bed and screw getting up five trillion times.  We’re going to have to change the sheets daily due to Sweaty-McSweatleson anyway.

Nia has been kicking daily now.  She seems to be awake and dancing about every three or four hours.  Sometimes I can only feel her internally, and sometimes she is stronger and I can feel her with my hand.  It’s pretty great.  She’s a very talented dancer.