Let bygones be, well, gone

Today my attorney told me he received my severance check in the mail.

I thank you, kind people of MLB.com, for sending it and living up to your end of the bargain. I heart you. OK, I don't heart you at all. But I am pleased to have this behind us. Kumbaya and all that.

Unfortunately, my dear readers, this means no tales from the trenches. It's OK though. It would have turned into a bitter former employee blog and nobody wants to read that. You know you all come here for the cervix talk and the boob discussion anyway, which, by the way, are HUGE again with this pregnancy. The boobs, not the cervix.

So, um, yeah. That's all I got for ya. Still working feverishly on The Next Big Thing. But since I have fulltime nanny help now (aka Grandmas) it makes it easier to work. Josh is so worried about my cervix shortening before we leave next week that he has pretty much banned me from the park and any long walks. I am allowed one Jack activity per day, and then I am supposed to be resting. So might as well try to eke out a living for this little family of ours whilst I loll around in bed.