Speckier and Speckier

I should say Speckiless and Speckiless, since the Speck is constantly becoming less of a Speck and more of a regular-sized tiny person.  He is almost 2 pounds!  Which means he accounts for a very, very small percentage of the extra padding I have these days...

ANYway, lately I have been thinking that I've hardly documented any part of this experience thus far, and maybe in the future I would regret that.  Maybe one day the Speck will read this blog and say, "You blogged about Gatorade flavors and not me??" and I will say, "Ah, the self-centeredness of youth."  I digress. Here are some recent happs:

--We bought a crib!  This was one of the easiest things to pick out and basically went like this: I found one I liked.  Drew objected to its lack of "masculinity."  I found one a little more manly.  Then we ordered it.  (We don't actually HAVE it yet)  I wound up ordering a white one because, since we aren't buying a set, it's a lot easier to match white furniture with white furniture, rather than all the shades of "espresso."  I look forward to cleaning fingerprints off it all the time.

--We (almost) bought a car seat and stroller!  This one involved a lot more mental agonizing and wringing of hands.  But in the end, we just test drove a couple at Babies r Us and there was a clear winner.  We'll order them both as the time gets closer since strollers are not nearly as cute as cribs when they're sitting around your house useless for months. 

--The Speck thumps me all day long.  I think he is systematically checking for weaknesses.  (He remembers...)

--As for me, I haven't been sick in weeks (hurray!), though just about every morning at 10:00 I feel horrible.  Sometimes it lasts ten minutes, sometimes a half hour and rarely it will last for longer.  I don't know why this happens. 

--I'm still always hungry.  I generally only feel gross if I haven't eaten for a while.

--In the morning, I feel like I have a soccer ball under my shirt.  By the time I go to bed it feels like a beach ball.  

--I try to exercise to even out the whole "always hungry" thing, and while it doesn't seem to help that at ALL, it does feel nice anyway.  It's too cold to do anything outside, but I do my Pilates for 20 minutes, four days a week (Monday is always a bust).  I am constantly amazed at how bendy the instructor is, and I am constantly amused at how she mixes up her words but goes for it anyway ("long string long"?).  I also use this little portable biking contraption a couple times a week.

--In general, I feel pretty much fine most of the time.  I'm still waiting to experience some of that supposed increased energy of the second trimester, but I suppose going to bed at 10:30 instead of 9:00 is an improvement.  Maybe my karma finally kicked in because so far I seem to have avoided a lot of the more annoying symptoms.  I don't want to say what they are because there's no wood to knock on...

--I DO still have my stuffy nose and I DO sneeze bloody snot all over myself at least once a day.  If I'm really lucky, I sneeze all over my clothes too.

--Speaking of clothes, I could live in these pants, and from about 5:30 on, I DO live in these pants.  Except when I wear these pants instead.  They are great pants, whether you are growing a human or not.  To sum up: pants.

--Speaking of pants, I finally bought some maternity jeans.  They are precious to me.

--Last point: I should give Drewbles some public credit for being such a nice fellow.  He spent several months eating (and making) mac and cheese for dinner and never getting to go anywhere except for Saturday mornings.  He doesn't complain no matter how many House Hunters episodes we watch or that I make him rub my feet all the time.  Basically, he never complains about anything and instead does whatever I whine about tell him.  I mean, he is always like that, but these days there's more he COULD complain about and I tell him to do a lot more things.  If I had a time machine I would go back to my teenage years when I would occasionally make one of those silly "qualities I want in a husband" lists and say "Hey, you dumb teenager, add willingness to that dumb list and stop being dumb."  Luckily it all worked out okay since he IS willing.  Nice husband.

So there you have it, Speck.  Your life right now consists of rolling around and hitting me, while mine consists of sneezing and turning into a butterball and your once and future papa dotes upon us both (and still sometimes makes mac and cheese).