Slight encouragement, new goals.

I made a couple of realizations between yesterday and today, and oddly enough, they have been positive and a little awesome.  As of yesterday, I am 26 weeks pregnant.  Not only 26 weeks pregnant, but 26 weeks pregnant with a belly measuring closer to 30 weeks.  Apparently my little guy (who is NOT measuring 30 weeks) needs lots of space in there for all of his dancing.

Anyway, here's the bright side (since been EXCEPTIONALLY large is certainly not the positive news): I've actually lost a couple of pounds this week.  No, I'm not trying to.  No, I'm not starving myself and putting my child in danger.  But I have been eating a little less this week, and I've been a good deal more active.  Finally, FINALLY, over the holiday slump, I'm getting a bit back to normal.  So instead of 172, this morning's scale proclaimed a dainty 169.

Okay, so maybe not dainty, and if you're curious, it's a good 15 pounds MORE than the hubs these days (the skinny jerk), but after bustin through the 160's in roughly 5.2 seconds, it was encouraging to see that number again.  OOH! And I haven't even told you the best part:

About a week shy of 3 years ago, when I discovered I was carrying my first little bundle of joy, I weighed about 2-3 pounds more than I do today.

So, you know. Booyah.

From roughly today's weight, I gained an additional 40ish pounds, to land finally at around 210.  If I gain 20 pounds from now, and then lose 20 right after the baby is born (which is what experience taught me happens), then my next big weight loss journey will begin around 170. Not, I repeat, NOT 190.  But also, if I can manage to restrain myself and gain closer to 10 more pounds over these next 14 weeks, then I can start my journey at only 160.  For my height, 160 pounds is 5 pounds overweight.  That's it.  So I guess what I'm saying is that, if I can manage to go easy on my food intake over the next 3 months, I might be able to wear tank tops this summer.

And no, if you're curious about this, I am not freaking gonna exercise.  I've tried it a few times and every single time I get painful contractions after, which the doctor says is normal since this is my second child but I believe is God telling me that I should not be attempting to bounce my giant self around all day and instead, should probably take more naps.  God's all about more naps. I'm sure of it.

Anyway, weight-wise I was a little give-upy when I signed in on Monday, so I thought I'd be a little more encouraging today.  Happy Friday everyone, and remember what God says about naps.  They're awesome.

Four months and looking every minute of it.

I received a lot of skepticism after people saw my pictures from Halloween.  Seems I didn't look pregnant enough for anyone on October 31st, (See below. Sidenote, isn't my family just adorable? Seriously though.  This woman got herself into a whole kaboodle of gorgeousness somehow.)  I've been trying to convince people I've, as they say, "popped" since then, but I figured some pictures might speak it a little louder.

 Sooooo, this post is for all of my belly-doubters out there.  BOOM.  How do you like them... watermelons?

4 months pregnant, and our little dude wants everyone to know it.  Howdy-ho world!  Yep.  Cuz my son is a corny cowboy.  Giddy-up.

And here is a my super dramatic pregnant belly pose.  I think this one is getting framed.

These pictures also feature my new favorite article of clothing:  Maternity skinny jeans.  You might argue, like my husband did, that skinny jeans may not be the most flattering look for a pregnant woman. Something about really emphasizing the ratio between calf/ankle size and butt/belly size, I don't know.  But just the same, these pants are stretchy and comfortable and allow me to wear my scrunchy knee-high boots, so I've decided to throw conventional wisdom to the wind.

Also, this is another thing.  Below are pictures of me pregnant last time, 18 weeks along to my current 16 1/2.  I feel secure that I'm looking mucho attractiver in my old age.  I think I earned myself some freakin skinny jeans.

Doncha think? Yeah you do.  You know you do.

So there's the pictures, hope they are super gratifying to all of you who were demanding either my pictures or my blood.  I can say it's gratifying for me.  See those pictures on the floor behind my feet?  Well, every single one of our pictures are on the walls now.  Yep. I'd say "it's the little things", but really, that's a huge thing.  You should all be wickedly impressed.

FOOOOOOOOD!!!!

As of today, I'm just starting my 5th month of pregnancy.  Pregnant, it should be mentioned, to the hungriest, pickiest bouncing baby boy that has ever been conceived.  And in this pregnancy, I'm starting to realize something:  This was the best freaking idea ever.

A couple of weeks ago was Halloween.  I ate enough candy to make myself just a little sick.  I've been enjoying chili and hot chocolate, and all sorts of awesome comfort foods. And I've been doing so guiltlessly.  Because I am pregnant, so I get to do, well, just about whatever I want.

I've done the math now, I'll be about 1/2 way through my fifth month for Thanksgiving, and 1/2 way through my sixth month over Christmas.  These facts are additionally awesome, because they have me firmly entrenched in my second trimester.  Important because first trimester, you're exhausted and nauseous. Third trimester, you're exhausted and barely able to move for the nearly full grown child swimming around inside of you.  Second trimester, quite simply offers you the greatest potential and capability for eating the greatest amount of the greatest foods.

And I TOTALLY intend to.

This might seem like I'm weirdly obsessed with food, and if that's what you're thinking, you're right.  Big shocker, too.  Have you forgotten how fat I got?  Also, there's this other important point:  Last year, I started the month of October at 170 pounds, and started January at 157.  No, it's not a ton, but just the same, I lost 13 pounds over the holidays.  I ran.  I avoided having any empty calories around the house.  I ate fine at holidays, but words like "in moderation" were really important to me.  The holidays are nice, always, of course, but dieting over the holidays is one of those "like kissing your sister" situations.  

So the moral of this story is, having a "viable excuse" for wickid amounts of overeating, and getting to experience your first every guilt-free holiday season is just plain incredible.  If you can plan it, and you can't, so probably don't worry about trying, plan on being pregnant over the holidays.  It'll freaking change your world.

P.S.  I'm still weighing in around 155.  The weight is climbing, but not as fast as you'd think based on this blog post.  Just thought I'd clarify ;-)

One A Day- really a better diet plan than a daily vitamin

And they're not even freaking One A Days.  They're Target "compare to" One A Days.  And they were cheap.  And I'm cheap.  And for some stupid stupid reason, I thought it'd be cool.

I was wandering around the kitchen this morning, making my daughter toast (she eats it dry and it's like her new favorite thing.  Weirdo.) and trying to make myself some coffee, when out of nowhere I had an undeniable urge to vom.  It was one of those, "my stomach feels empty, and somehow, that's bad, and it's about to get a whole lot emptier", sensations that sent me racing straight to the bathroom.  No passing go, no collecting $200 along the way.

So it's official folks, my first pregnancy 2 sick session.

Although, gotta say, I don't feel like it counts.

Somewhere between the kitchen and bathroom, I had the time to have one, singular, coherent thought: WHYYYY?!?!?  I mean seriously, I'm almost 14 weeks along, and NOW I start throwing up?  This cannot be for serious.  And then it occurred to me.  Last night I forgot my vitamin.  So my bright idea solution was to take it this morning.  Roughly 10 minutes before my body decided it needed to be expelled.

So again, I'm now quite certain this was One A Day sickness, not morning sickness.  I'm not sure what they put in that stuff, but it's violent and painful and I hate it.

That being said, if for some reason any of you DON'T become violently ill with this brand of vitamin (I assume somewhere out there has to be okay with them, unless they're used exclusively by bullemic girls who are too embarrassed to purchase laxatives and can't gag on their own fingers), I have a just-purchased bottle of 298 prenatal vitamins you may have!  That's right, this is my first official (and probably last official) AEISY FREEBIE GIVEAWAY!!!!!  First person to ask for it who lives close enough that I don't have to mail them can have all of my vitamins!!

Go ahead and leave awesome begging comments now, to get your chance at the pukamins!!!!

Some doctors don't have boarders. Mine doesn't have boundaries.

Let me start off by saying this:  My doctor is not a pervert.  Probably.  No, not.  He is NOT a pervert.  And I'm stickin' to it.  I'm just saying that the guy could be a little less... something.

There's something important to remember about doctors.  They don't seem to have strong rules about personal space.  Maybe it happens in med school.  You work with enough cadavers, enough fake and then real bodies, and you just sort of forget that it's a body.  People maybe start looking more like cars rolling into the local mechanic.

And if not in med school, it could start before.  Doctors are basically nerds, right?  So maybe they never got around to learning the more refined points of social interaction.

Anyway, that's enough speculation.  On to my point.

At Maternity Doctor's Appointment One, doctors always insist on groping your chest.  I'm actually starting to think it's how they shake hands in Doctor Land.  But I've been through these things before.  Deep breath, I was expecting it.  What I WASN'T expecting was the color commentary.  "Hmmm, ooh, yeah.  Yes.  Yeah.  Yeah, those are some VERY normal breasts".

... "Thhhhank you?"

And I should note, in his voice, it didn't sound terrifyingly creepy.  I know it may read that way, but that wasn't it.  He really sounded impressed, to be honest.  Impressed by the overwhelming normalcy of my chest.  I didn't know how to take it.  In fact, it happened almost 6 weeks ago, and I only just told my husband yesterday.  How do you break something like that to your spouse?

Now we get to the reason I told him.  I was at Maternity Doctor's Appointment Two, during the "lay back and show the doctor your tummy portion" (gosh this all sounds so humiliating when you lay it out this way), when Mr. Doctor asked if my "body has been changing".  I mentioned that I felt I was getting thicker around the middle and... and that's when it happened.  He stuck his thumb into my belly button and pinched my lower abdominal fat.  He then... give me a moment, this is hard to say... he then wiggled it.  He wiggled it and asked, "See this?  Your body wants to store food in case you need it later."

Yes, my Dear Mr. Doctor, I understand the concept of fat.  I really, REALLY didn't need a hands on object lesson.

I get that to Dear Mr. Doctor, I am just some old clunker who has come in for some minor repairs, but just the same, I'd rather you not spend so much time man-handling the seat cushions and commenting on the tail pipe.  Stick to what's necessary, and remember one thing:  In reality, I am, in fact, a pregnant woman.  And while I probably won't sue you or smack you when you've crossed the boundaries you never seem to see, if you wiggle any part of me again I promise you I WILL start to cry.

I think that's fair warning for the both of us.

With great power comes great big stress ulcers

One of the things I've learned over the past few years is that parental incompetence begins long before the stork ever drops that kid off at your door step.  Which brings me to an issue that's been on my mind a great deal lately.  I'm pretty sure I might be an incompetent parent.

First, let me answer your question. No, I'm not drinking. I'm not doing drugs or eating buckets full of tuna or engaging in any other crazy and irresponsible behavior that may label me incompetent. No no, this is different than that.  I don't know, may be worse.

Because in 28 short weeks, I'm suppossed to tell some professional medical-type people what my kid's name is.  And I have no freakin' clue.

I've never had any sort of desire to wield this kind of power over another human.  I never made a list of baby names I would one day name my children when I was in high school.  (Because seriously, girls who don't get dates do NOT plan that far ahead.  We have more pressing concerns from day to day, like, "I hope no one looks at me and notices my... face", or the oh so unforgettable, "Don't fall down don't fall down don't fall down don't fall down don't fall down".) And for heaven's sake, I'm even terrible at naming pets.  Example: we are currently on our second cat named Allie (of course, the first one was an abandoned infant I found in a parking lot and it was sickly and it only lived for about a week, so I'm not sure if that counts.)  Unfortunately, everyone except for George Forman seems to frown on naming each of your kids the same thing.

For years husband and I liked the name Xavier.  Husband recommended it pronounced with a Z sound, and that sometimes we call him Zave.  But now we worry that if our poor kid is a nerd, (I know, OUR kid?? You'd never suspect...) that name will just sort of emphasize the nerdiness.  So Xavier is out.  Sorry Charlie.  Hmmm... Charlie?  No.

Anyway, there's a number of names that I think are ... nice, but nothing I necessarily love.  Nothing I'm elated about.  Nothing I'm ready to brand another human with for the rest of his or her life.  If you're curious how I did this once before, I didn't.  Husband picked the name years before we were in a position to think about it, and it sounded good.  So we went with it, and that worked out fine.  But maybe I should have some say on this kid?

Probably not.  ::Sigh::  This all just feels like one more thing to put in the memo line of the checks I will inevitably be writing to Thing 2's therapist.

Love, Mommy.

Mucho excitement week, and looking devastatingly chubby.

Well, after 10 1/2 hours of sleep last night, I'm quite ready for a nap now.  In my defense, I've already been awake for like, a few hours, so... there ya go.

My overall sleepiness is a big problem at the moment though, because this is not a week for sleeping.  THIS is a week for celebrating.  Tomorrow, my incredible little weirdo of a baby girl turns 2.  A bona fide toddler, as she's even starting to fit into some clothes with a T behind the number, instead of the word "months".  Target has taught me that 2 years is wicked monumental.

Then, to make matters additional, the day after My big girl turns bigger, I turn super duper old. 28, not 27, as a friend of mine had to remind me.  Does 28 sound old?  28 sounds old.  But it doesn't matter, because the day I turn older, we'll be celebrating birthday week at Disneyland.  And it's supposed to be under 70.  I'm too excited to feel old and creaky.

Anyway, I can't button my pants anymore.  It's become a problem.  Or at least a nnoying.  To make matters worse, everyone I ever ever see tells me the same dang thing: "Wow! You're HOW far along? You don't even look pregnant!"

Neurotic Girl Translation: You look a lot fatter, but just fatter. That is all.

So I've decided to take some drastic measures. I've tossed aside my old jeans and the rubber bands I was using to keep them closed and donned actual factual maternity clothes.  Because the secret awesome behind maternity clothes is that pretty much no matter what, they make you look pregnant. Okay, right, if you're super skinny, and have nothing resembling a belly, they will probably just emphasize your six-packiness.

But if you have any sort of a belly, instead of smooshing it down like your regular zip up jeans tend to, maternity plans just let it all fly.  So here is my belly today, nearly 11 weeks pregs.

Here is what my belly CAN look like, if I really throw my back into it.

Impressive, right?  I think I'm gonna start walking around like that.

One of these days I hope I get to look in the mirror and see a pregnant belly, not just the slow fade of my years worth of weight loss.

Anyway: HAPPY BIRTHDAY WEEK TO THE MILLER LADIES! WOOP WOOP!

Pregnancy Cravings and becoming Susie Homemaker

I woke up Saturday morning and immediately felt, well, absolutely miserable.  I was already hungry, which is normal for every moment of my life these days, and again, just like normal, this also meant I was overcome by gut-wrenching nausea.

By the way? Sick of it. Just. Foh-reakin. Sick of it.

However, there's also a super-bright side to my 6 1/2 straight weeks of feeling like I have the flu every dang day of my life:  FOOD.

Unlike normal sick, where you feel relegated to ginger ale and saltines, pregnancy sick seems to require incredibly specific, obscure, and occasionally elaborate meal-fixes.  Basically, I eat the right thing, I feel better.  I eat the slightly WRONG thing (like tacos. As good as they smell, they make the baby just so, so very angry), I'm left with violent stomach cramps.  Really, it's sort of like an adventure.  And when I win, oh boy do I ever win.  I am not joking.  I ate a club sandwich at Chili's last night that just about blew my ever-loving mind.  They should seriously win some kind of award for that sandwich.

One food side effect of pregnancy is the desire, not just to eat, but to bake.  Apparently child numero dos is superduper picky about his/her food sources, and prefers fresh baked to prepackaged pastries.  All of a sudden things from packages taste a little more like the package than the food it's supposed to contain.  In other words, this kid has already locked me into the kitchen.

So all of these things are the reason why you find me here tonight, baking pumpkin bread that smells so good, I'm nearly brought to tears.  Again, not joking.  It's getting hard to read my typing and watch the majestic glory that is Empire, through the mistiness of my eyes.  Oh man.  If that bread tastes even half as good as it smells, I think I might have to do a jig.

And for my Jerry Springer moment, life is full of trade offs.  This past month and a half, I've traded my ability to ever feel healthy and normal, and gained a zest for food stuffs that I have never, ever before even imagined.  Something to think about.  Hope all of your trade offs bring you crazy dance-producing joy today!

Now I know how cat feels.

We have Cat.

Cat spends all night sleeping on our feet.

Cat spends all day sleeping on the arm of our couch.

Cat occasionally wakes up to eat and force humans to pet her.

Besides that, cat sleeps.

Oh, how I envy Cat.

Sometimes I think about blogging again these days, but during the few minutes of opportunity I have in the day, my fingers feel too sleepy to type, and my brain feels too sleepy to be interesting.

Exactly how much would you like to hear about my exhaustion, nausea, and newly developed passion for everything edible?  Are you fascinated to know how stupid being pregnant makes you?  Here's some of the more recent highlights:

- TWICE in one day, I dialed a number on my phone, then forgot to pick it up to my ear. I just stared at it, wondering what was supposed to happen next.
- I forgot to change my daughter's diaper last week. For an entire day. I put one on her in the morning, and didn't think about it again till she started to leak at 5.
- I keep forgetting stuff I'm supposed to be doing, and places I'm supposed to be driving.
- I've washed my body in hair conditioner, and come very close to putting lotion on my toothbrush.  I'm getting really nervous I might poison myself soon.
- I can't remember anyone's name. I mean anyone.  Real sorry, everyone I've ever met. I just don't know who you are anymore.
- I forget the date. Not just the day, but the month and year too. Frequently.
- I forgot my own age the other day. I read it a bunch of times, and kept agreeing with myself.  Yep, I'm 26.  It took a friend to remind me that I'm 27, which was terrifying, because it really felt like a lost a year of my life right then.

It would not be a stretch to say that I'm about two days from dropping my jaw and drooling on myself.  Shoot, I already wind up with bits of food and toothpaste spilled down my shirts most days, I'm constantly tripping when I walk, and the other day I somehow managed to drop a drawer full of heavy things on my foot, because I don't know how to properly use cupboards anymore.

So that's my life lesson these days, my friends: HUMILITY. Learn it. Love it. Forgive others because no one is more slovenly pathetic than yourself.

Aaaaaaand Bloat.

Feeling very poochy lately, which is another way of saying that I feel like my stomach region has taken on a life of its own and has decided on a general expansion of property.  I feel fat.  Tight pants.  It feels uncomfortable to lay on my stomach.  The whole 9 yards.

I've been mostly blaming this on my to-ridiculous-to-mention eating habits (por ejemplo, I made ice-cream a meal every single day for like, 3 weeks), but today I found some wonderful news:  By about 6 weeks, (aka, now) I should be able to notice a little "tightening around the waist" especially since this isn't my first rodeo.

So yay!!!  Pregnancy Book also suggested that I "probably have gained a few pounds by now". Which begs the question, how do you know me so well, Pregnancy Book?!?  Uh-may-zing.

Sorry I haven't resumed writing lately, I've tried a couple of times, but it got a little confusing to read when my head collapsed onto the keyboard.  If anyone notices these days that I'm walking around with the letter J embedded in my forehead, remember how sleepy baby-making gets you.  And now it's 7:30, time for my daughter's bath, followed by my pre-bedtime nap.  Ah, c'est la vie!

Symtomatologizing, and other fun facts.

Wonderful news:  Despite all of my anxiety, I made it through the WHOLE NIGHT without any panicked moments, or even having to use the restroom at all!  I'd mention how I'm a big fan of celebrating small victories, but I would consider NOT wetting the bed as a way-too-old adult to be a pretty sizeable victory.

So after 8 1/2 hours of sleep, I'm so tired this morning I wish I could cry.  It's also about time that I let you know I've been putting on some weight, which is entirely inappropriate for someone who is five minutes pregnant.  151.4 this morning, which makes loads of sense when you consider the amount of ice cream I've been consuming.

Sometimes I used to wish I could make it halfway through a pregnancy without realizing I was pregnant, in hopes that I'd spend a month or two NOT getting all blimpified.  I guess I can only dream...

Note for the day: It doesn't really count as "eating for two" when one of those two is the size of a poppy seed.

4 weeks along... can it really get worse than this?!?

I went to bed last night, and as always, spent the night deeply engaged in some way too strange and way too realistic dreams, as is common during pregnancy days.  In the middle of one of these dreams, the content of which I cannot remember, I had one of those "dreaming you're using the restroom because you need to pee" dreams, when all of a sudden, REAL!!!  That's right.  I had started, just started, to pee.

Now I'm not going to say I wet the bed, because the bed was not wet.  This incident was not nearly that severe.  But what I AM saying is that, whatever the mechanism is that tells you to wake up when you need to use the restroom maaaay have broken on me.  I had no inclination to wake up until I had the actual physical sensation of CRAP NO I'VE STARTED TO PEE.  It was terrifying.  I haven't done that since I was about 7, and it freaked me out so much I couldn't fall back asleep for almost 2 more hours.

Let's get some perspective here.  Yes, I went to the bathroom before going to bed. Twice.  And yes, I'm pregnant.  But also, the baby, who is just now becoming an embryo, is approximately 1mm long.  It does not yet have legs with which to kick or use my bladder as its own personal trampoline, but by simple virtue of its existence, I have suddenly become incontinent, and by golly, I am WAY too old and WAY too young for that.

Ha. Just saw a commercial regarding "urgency".  I feel ya, sista.

So needless to say, I'm terrified.  Not sure if this is normal, it's certainly something I didn't have before, and I just can't imagine how much worse it may get as this pregnany... DOUBLE HA! Now Whoopi Goldberg talking about bladder leakage.  And NO, oddly enough, I'm not watching WE.  People who aren't working at 12:30pm must have a lot of bladder issues.  Okay, back to it.... progresses.  As this pregnancy progresses.  I may very well be in 24/7 Depends by week 12.

Anyway, I'm sure there are tons of you who are gagging at your computer screens right now, wishing I would NOT have disclosed to the world my nighttime bladder control issues.  But I've decided that since I'm not going to be losing any weight anytime soon, instead, I'm going to share every glorious and GORious detail of these baby building months.

So cheers, and hope you all feel control of all of your most important bodily functions today!

Hey now!

It seems I have this really insightful sister-in-law.  So insightful, in fact, that even from multiple states away, she was able to pick up on the maybe not-so-subtleties of my behavior changes.  Ashley's not blogging these days.  Why?

OBVIOUSLY, she's pregnant.

Yep, that's 5 points to you, Katie, for realizing that I COULDN'T blog over the past week and a half, mostly because I was too afraid I would fall into a long stream of ITHINKI'MPREGNANTITHINKI'MPREGNANTITHINKI'MPREGNANTITHINKI'MPREGNANTITHINKI'MPREGNANT.

And I wasn't going to blog about it before my family knew about it.  Or at least, for heaven's sake, until I knew about it.

So there you have it, the reason that A) I haven't been blogging as much, and B) I haven't been weight-losing at all.  See the deal is, we started trying to have a second baby about 5 months ago.  With our first, it was immediate.  Within a blink, faster than you could say, "hey maybe we should start trying for a baby", we had one.  It was awesome, and I assumed, indicative of highly predictable pregnancies to come.

In April, we started trying to have a baby, and I stopped trying to be skinny.  I assumed I'd be pregnant within 5 minutes and any efforts I made would be completely wasted.  Also, I LOVE excuses to stop working out.  And anyone who wants to tell me that you "should still work out during pregnancy!" can bite my butt.  Well that was my excuse for the first few months, and after that, I guess I was just out of practice.  And frustrated that things weren't working as quickly as I thought they should.  Which is to say, I never knew you could feel so absolutely pissed off about having to buy a box of tampons.  The more you know, huh?

Anyway, with all that said, be prepared for a new flavor around this blog, weight gain progress, giant belly pics, and tales about all the times I've cried that day.  (Yesterday it was FOUR!)  You  know, the kind of stuff that will make you feel MUCH better, and way sexier about yourself.  That is my 9 month long gift to you.

Oh, and P.S.- Do you like my drawing?  I really am kind of proud of it, I'm thinking of forgetting everything else and making this a place to exhibit my art.  Let me know if you'd like an original print, I can design something especially for you.  We'll bang out a price later.

I'm not crazy, I'm a woman.

Or at least, that's what I'm going with.  Sorry if that insults anyone out there.  Oops.

The other night at around 7:30 I had an unquenchable, undeniable, and unending urge to run to the drug store and grab a pregnancy test.  I'd been feeling spontaneously and intensely nauseous for about 6 days, and once I thought about it, may have also been experiencing a few other symptoms of pregnancy.  And now I had to know.  Immediately.

This is where my husband thinks that I am an insane person.  "If you're pregnant, (which you're not, you complete nut job), you'll be just as pregnant tomorrow.  You can find out that you're not pregnant then."

Psh, what does he know.  He's not in my body, experiencing strange and inexplicable symptoms and just knowing, KNOWING that there may be a tiny life taking root inside of me.  And more than that, knowing that there is absolutely no way I'll be able to sleep tonight with that possibility hanging over my head.

So I bought the test.

And surprise!  I'm not pregnant.

No, we're not trying for a baby quite yet.  Yes, we are using contraception, so I guess the "absolute probability" I had gotten knocked up was... well, less than absolute.  But there's always that CHANCE, right?  And if there's a chance, and peeing on a little stick will give you the ANSWER with 99% certainty within 3 short minutes, how do you not make a mad dash for the drug store?  So mad, in fact, that you forget your purse and only realize when you're half way there and have to go back and get it because, well, pregnancy tests aren't free, and then must drive all the way back to the drug store, while wishing stop lights didn't take so cotton picking long to change, and what's with so many people being on the road all of a sudden at 8 o'clock at night?  So, you get it then.  Good.  How I manage to live at all without testing every morning is absolutely beyond me.

In my life so far, I've taken 1 positive pregnancy test.  In the bathroom at a Borders.  Because I needed to know, and I thought, well, if it's not true at least I can grab a coffee and peruse the books.  I have also taken three thousand two hundred and fifty eight negative tests.  This may be why Shane thinks I'm crazy.  But also, he doesn't know.  Not about THIS time.  And I'd always, always rather know, and be mocked, than continue to exist with the question.

Getting pregnant right now would not be the absolute bestest of the best timing.  If I am able to get a new job I'm trying for, health insurance and maternity leave would kick in and make this whole experience much much better.  But would I be off-the-hook excited to find out I was pregnant again right now? ::Sigh:: Yes.  Always yes.  A thousand times yes.  Because I don't have an angel and a demon sitting on my shoulders.  I have a nice, sensible person on one and that mom who's had like, two thousand children, and counting, or whatever on the other.  "Ashley, if you wait another six months or so, you will be able to get 3 months paid maternity leave and have your healthcare paid for completely." "Madelyn would really love a sibling"   "You don't want to be pregnant during the summer again." "Awww, remember how fun it is to be pregnant??"  "You're still trying to lose a bit more weight first. It makes wonderful sense to hold off for now." "MAKE'UM BABIES!!!!!!"  Yep, it's a tough battle going on inside.

So I guess I just want to see if the baby mama in me has won yet.  Like, has secretly poked holes in condoms or what not.  Because to be honest, I think that's possible.

Now I'm starting to wonder:  Does Costco sell those tests in bulk?  If so, it may be worth thinking about getting a card...