I've been doing some cursory internet research on things pregnant ladies can't do, and I'm starting to think that maybe my list wasn't such a good idea. In fact, if I just picked everything off of the "no" list for preggos, I would probably spend most of the rest of the year with my head in a bucket anyway.
For instance, not being pregnant gives me the distinctive pleasure of getting totally plastered in a field full of ticks, and then having my designated driver take me to Petsmart, where I could then rub my face on all of their reptiles and come into contact with cat feces. I am also now allowed to pour raw seafood down my throat and eat contaminated fish.
But seriously, I am rather concerned about the prospect of going nine months without hotdogs, brie, smoked salmon, and Dr. Pepper. I will indeed be laying on my stomach at every opportunity. I am, at this very moment, trying to devise a way to combine all of these activities at once that doesn't make my stomach turn. Maybe I'll just stick to a schedule of each of these things in turn: Costco hotdogs with Dr. P for lunch, afternoon tummy time with a snack of bread and brie, and smoked salmon sushi for dinner. I'll rub my face on reptiles alternating days. I will leave the cat feces to my loving husband.
By the way, Lisa, your comment reminded me of a very important video:
Thanks for that.