I don't really know what I'm doing. It's Friday (yay!) and I have no brain cells (thanks Tiny Gordon!). So yesterday was the big hoo-ha and sonogram! I was much more nervous this time - my brain was telling me cyclops and possible extra extremities and my heart was begging my brain to shut the hell up. Turns out, the little lasagna is baking along solidly and has everything in the right place. Apparently, I scan beautifully, which is a new one, but I'll take any compliment I can get, right? Lots of wiggling and worming, a wave (story on that later) and a thumbs up! Baby knows what momma likes to see. I have to say, I did feel teary, but mostly I think I just felt relief. I mean, could we possibly be lucky twice? So, story:

Jack and I discussed the heartbeat hearing & sonogram earlier in the morning. He was so excited to see pictures of "baby" (and cuddling partner), his face lit up. We wanted to bring him along, then weren't able to, unfortunately. "Hold me," he says as I crouch down beside him for a hug and I tell him I have pictures of baby. We go through the stack and as we come to the one where baby is waving, I tell him baby is saying, "Hi, big brother!". He laughs and says "Hiiiiiiii!", then kisses the picture. I cried and hugged him for about a year. It might have been the sweetest thing he has ever done in his short life.

This week (as I have been bored with my food choices), I have discovered a few of my favorites that had taken a backseat:

1. Hummus. I could eat it with a spoon.
2. Feta cheese (I think there's a Greek theme here).
3. Lemon Larabars - possibly the most excellent thing I have eaten in ages.

Some other things I am loving right now:
1. Forever 21...quite possibly the trashiest, most excellent. store. ever. I may be nuts, but they are tops for sundresses that are extremely reasonable and cute and wearable through the preggo months. I actually was accosted by a woman admiring my dress yesterday.
2. My nails. Wow. I gaze lovingly at them at least 20 times a day. Talons.
3. My friend Woof - she keeps me sane during the workday.
4. Dr. Pepper. I have to keep it to a minimum because I know the sugar isn't good (yes, they have caffeine free!), but that first swig is ridiculously good. Don't tell me to drink diet, it's just as bad and tastes nothing like the real thing. Seriously.

Ok, pics of the new little one and then I'm out to the Rock Chalk Ball with hubby & two of my most excellent friends, Sarah & Robert. Don't even get me started on the dress debacle.

Jack is now obsessed with hunting (another fun thing he gets to do with Daddy but never mommy, the tree-hugging vegetarian, right?). He goes around saying, "It's not deer season, it's turkey season." Nearly every day we go through the ranks of the turkeys; Tom, Jake, Hen. Then the deer; Buck, Doe, Fawn. Then he says, "Daddy's the buck," which usually comes out, "Daddy butt", so I'm looking classier all the time. To make matters worse, Daddy strolled in the garage this morning with four (!) limp turkeys and Jack was ecstatic. I secretly hope that one day he is appalled at the sight of his dead friends (ok, not so secretly) and realizes that he detests hunting. I don't need him to be a vegetarian, I just don't want him to shoot things. And I really, really hope people don't think I have stuffed carcasses on the walls. Totally embarrassing.

In the meantime, my belly grew overnight. I'm still feeling like the spare tire/muffin top gal and not really the pregnant-looking, radiant, gorgeous mama-to-be (right), but it's getting better. I have actually really looked forward to "popping" this time and despite the fact that I still have issues with the body changes (hello cantaloupes with dinner plate nipples), it's been a little easier to accept this time. Part of that could be the fact that I have some super sun dresses for this fair-weather pregnancy instead of the atrocities I was wearing with Jack. Business attire is not for pregnancy. No matter what you see or hear, it all looks like shit. I considered some of the old maternity wear and decided the only thing acceptable was the yoga pants, which as I mentioned in my earlier pregnancy, I have pretty much blown out the crotch from extensive wear, so I'm thinking it's all staying in the storage bin.

Tomorrow's the sonogram and dreaded weigh-in. I think I should just stop looking. I think my pants still fit - although there are a few pairs I've been avoiding so I can also avoid the shame that comes along with the possibility of not being able to button/having the jelly roll drooping over the top. I'm still religiously using my cocoa butter like with Jack and here's hoping my psychological belief that it works will come into play this time as well. I can't believe I'm actually excited about wearing a bathing suit, but the realization that I don't have to suck in for the first time in 17 years might actually bring tears to my eyes.

I'll keep you all posted on the sonogram and hopefully will be able to put up pictures. Happy Hump Day!

It seems there is a never-ending supply of mischief going on at the baby sitter's house...just yesterday she told me how Jack found her son's "secret" stash of candy in the closet (after climbing out of bed during his nap) and proceeded to slather himself with some sort of red lollipop (through the wrapper). Then he told her not to tell him "no, you can't have that". Ah. Just last week, after his nap, he unloaded all of her poor son's clothing out of his dresser. I'm thinking she is going to have to invest in a padlock for the child's bedroom. I wonder if she just throws her hands up in exasperation each day...or if she simply laughs and chalks it up to toddler-hood. She is amazingly patient and the stories never cease to amaze me.

I think I may have found my way back onto Jack's good side. I also could have been overreacting, which is totally weird. Although yesterday he did tell me he wanted to stay at the baby sitter's house and not go with me. I almost cried, but I realized he was probably still thinking about the candy. I overheard him asking for me when he got in trouble (score one for mom!) with dad and he loves to "lay on baby" with me and sing silly songs or watch cartoons. At night, he wants me to lay endlessly in bed with him, singing "Old MacDonald" - the new favorite - and cuddle on top of my belly. I will be so sad when it's too big to lay on. Yesterday as I dropped him off, he kissed me and said "BYE!" and then "BYE, BABY!". I wonder how I could possibly love another baby like I love him? I know I will, but I do believe it's different with a firstborn. Not better, just different.

This time around, hubby and I have decided to keep our baby names a secret. No one is going to know. People might think they know and that's fine...let them guess! I think I got cranky a little last time when people were showing obvious disdain for the names we had chosen. You know, as if I were asking them to change their own or name all of their pets and children the same. I have sworn hubby to secrecy and he has promised a zillion times not to tell. Not that there's anything to tell right now, we have not settled on a thing. It's only week 15, so I guess we have a little time.

A few new pictures...Jack in his dad's baseball cap, and touching my 14 week belly!

I'm trying to decide today if I simply have a case of pregnancy sensitiveness or actual brokenheartedness. For the first time today, my son made me cry, and not in a good way. First, he was being a turd when trying to get dressed, and I got after him and it was the immediate, "I want daddy!" and requisite crying. This is what I deal with now. He no longer wants me, just daddy. Ok, I get the occasional love, but it's almost always daddy. It seems like Daddy gets to do all of the fun things. Jack and I just wind up going to the grocery store together while Daddy takes him out to search for animals (that Daddy is only going to shoot later...boo) while I am teaching class and to baseball games that take place before I get home from work. I wind up having to do the things that we have to do with him...not what we want. Granted, I play football and baseball and tickle him silly, but it's not the same. Today, I'd had it. I finished dressing him and stomped down the stairs and slammed the door without a goodbye. Then I silently cried while I finished blow drying. And I want to cry again. I wasn't prepared for it to happen this soon. It's horrendous and I can't believe my two year old son is already breaking my heart...I thought at the very least it would happen when he brought home a girl in a too short miniskirt, way too much makeup, entirely too much cleavage, and I sent her packing with orders to come back when she looked less like a hooker and more like a 16-year old. But two. Two. Two!

Hubby, Jack & I spent last weekend caring for my grandma who has had numerous TIAs (mini-strokes, you could say), and a couple of actual strokes. Physically, she is fine, but her short term memory is gone and again, I was almost brought to tears by her inability to remember what to put on first when getting dressed. She is terrified of being left alone because she knows that she won't remember things like getting to the bathroom or even whose home she is in. Of course, there are moments of the old Grandma as she laughs at Jack's play-by-play during his imaginary baseball game and throwing a plastic egg so that it ricochets off of the table and nails me in the forehead. But minutes later she will lapse back into a state of almost catatonic-ness and old grandma is long gone. G'ma M loves to play cards (and cheat!) and conquer the crosswords each day. She adores costume jewelry has all of the dangly earrings, cocktail rings, and bracelets that make dress-up complete. She makes ham & beans that no one could resist and taught us all how to make potato salad. My sassy little grandma...now frustrated and struggling at her forgetfulness and inability to do any of those treasured tasks any longer. It was not an easy weekend...not because it was hard to take care of her, any one of us would do it again, but because she is simply no longer herself and those moments where her spunky personality and scratchy voice shine are few and far between. I think most of all it's just sad.

Well, happy Hump Day has turned into crappy hump day, apparently...I promise to blog on happier thoughts soon.