I am halfway there. I feel good, am still able to see at least part of my feet, am really enjoying running again and am not so exhausted I fall asleep on the toilet on a daily basis. Right now I am just basking in the wonder that is the second trimester and eating myself silly. I love it. I love food.
Without the presence of sweet, sweet, alcohol, food has become my crutch. Hard day at work? Eat three bowls of cereal. Somebody in the checkout line said you were really big for no farther along than you are? Pass the Ding Dongs. Vending machine out of Twizzlers? Head out for ice cream. I just love being pregnant and having a good excuse to eat the way I do normally.
I am getting more used to the idea of having another penis in my life. Trying to figure out what to do with said penis once it arrives: circumcision care, frequent pee outburst, etc. Since The Quiet Contemplator is more or an independent, lone wolf, I am hoping My Sponsor will be a mama’s boy who will call me from college to ask just how it is that you make Macaroni ‘n’ Cheese…again.
Overall, things are looking up. It seems since I hit the 12-week mark, the weeks have been flying by. This is somewhat scary as I have really done nothing to prepare, but I will worry about that once I hit 40 weeks or so. What’s the rush?
|Any Barney comments about the purple dress and you get punched in the neck.|