oh, and, by the way...

Part of why I've been horrible at blogging lately is because I wasn't sure how to break this news. You'd think it'd be the first place I'd tell the world we were adding to our family, but for whatever reason, it's the last. I was thinking that maybe I'd sneak it into a post about finding the right sandals or the best foot soak, but I haven't had the energy to write those up yet.

So, yeah. I'm pregnant! 24, almost 25 weeks along (6 months, just into the last trimester) to be as exact as a pregnancy can go. It's another boy.

Um, sorry? For falling asleep at 9pm on the couch, and being completely drained? Then, when I finally have energy, planning trips and keeping track of work and family? Dahyum, it's tough! I don't know how some women do it. Now I'm on a daily progesterone supplement (to try and prevent another pre-term birth), I'm back to being exhausted all over again. Luckily, I avoided being nauseous, but I did crave salty foods at first (Ceasar salads, Onion Soup).

We were trying? Yes, but we've been "trying" off and on for the last two years. This was just a slightly more concentrated effort once I got settled in my new job, before I got too old, and there was too much of a age difference between the kids. Maybe it was the lacy red bra from Intimacy or maybe it was the pink highlights that finally did it.

It's just funny how this second pregnancy I've been on the down-low. My first was just insane--I was working like a crazy person, we were in the midst of buying a place, and just being in the moment not knowing what the future would be like. Not that I have adopted a "been there, done that" kind of 'tude, but more like, "Oh yeah, I forgot how much my boobs hurt." It still amazes me to feel this new little guy rolling around in mah belly. It's magic.

same fight, different day

We have on a UFC fight that we watched last week (the guy in green trunks wins).

Owen has been having problems with transitions which is hard. I go to pick him up at school, and he gives me a hug an then he hits me/bites my clothes, won't go to the bathroom, runs off to the elevator. I try and help him go to sleep and he hits me, headbutts me, unleashes a torrent of poophead talk. (BTW, the word for today was booger.) When I threaten to leave, he begs me to stay and starts crying. It sucks. The situation has been snowballing for the last week or so. Tonight we didn't give in and Tak helped him go to sleep. It's funny, but going to sleep is that last little thing that he really wants me to help him with. I see it as a sign he's really torn about getting bigger. It would be great for him to go to sleep without so many problems, but it makes me sad because it's a kind of weaning.

He's making great strides reading: reading signs, high frequency words like and and the. He finished reading the title of Minerva Louise and the Red Truck; he loved the book and totally has a sense of humor.

Last night I sat in bed and knit: I finished a coaster for my sister (how I love self-striping yarn) and ended up ripping out the cap I'm knitting for my father-in-law. I admitted defeat that not only were the stitches twisted and going moebius, but also that it was going to be way too big. Do over!

happy mothers' day

Happy Mothers' Day to all the awesome moms out there! We went to my parents' and we had a blast playing catch and sort-of T-ball. Owen made a great card for me, which included pipe cleaner stitching on the envelope.

(Yes, I know I still need to blog about our trip. And the improved Children's Museum & Charles MGH T stop. I was sick and needed sleep, or Mr. Man was using the computer. I'm also almost done knitting my first sweater. But tonight, I did a facial mask and really need to wash it off.)

Owen did his first real magnetic words on the fridge last night. My new in-laws at Thanksgiving gave us a set of "artistic" magentic poetry. (We took some words out: smoke, drugs, psychedelic, beer, sex, cigarette.) He kept adding to it until it arched across the bottom of the fridge. I had to say, each time he added more words, "Say, 'Oh my goodness,' then laugh really hard." This is what the complete line was: I ate mess imagine did miasma surreal mount never you scale almost approach you full how we wild open shard fashion pain death glass piece

currently listening to: Amy Winehouse, Back to Black.

lesson learned

The other night, in an effort to break up the Miyazaki repetition, I put on Disney's Alice in Wonderland, thinking that Owen would like the silliness of it. We've also been reading Bill Peet's The Caboose Who Got Loose, and he worked on a bunch of Disney movies, including Alice in Wonderland. We start watching, and we get to the part after Alice has fallen down the rabbit hole, and is looking through the keyhole as the White Rabbit is running away. Owen comes over to me, tells me to turn it off, and bursts into tears. When I get him to tell me why he's so upset, he says, "She lost her kitty!" The crying jag lasts a good 15 minutes. So, I guess we won't be watching a good chunk of the Disney catalog for awhile!

Currently listening to: