If you’re good at math, or if you’ve kept up with this blogaroonie for the past couple years, maybe you’ve deduced that there’s an extra pair of TINY shoes on our front door mat.
Team Gwinn is expecting another little duderino/ dudette in the Spring! And that’s mostly why I’ve been off the radar since we’ve moved.
Captain Laser Pants is pretty excited. Like “went out and bought me flowers for the fourth time ever in our relationship” excited. Mini Gwinn doesn’t get it at all. And the matriarch? Well. I’m a grumpy Gus. And I LOATHE being pregnant. But so far, this pregnancy hasn’t been nearly as difficult as the first (the bonus of planned pregnancies, and knowing what to expect, I suppose).
to quickly bring you fine readers up to speed: I’m fourteen weeks this week, I’ve gained a pound for every week (because I’m naturally predispositioned to be a COW, apparently), I had a couple weeks of major exhaustion and nausea, but now I feel fine, except for the fact that I can’t weight lift for crap anymore and my stomach went from rippled to lumpy.
You can actually see where my abdominal wall just gave up. And I’m wearing TWO sports bras in this picture. Yeesh, pregnancy. As my doctor’s assistant very sweetly said to me, “Some people wear pregnancy well. Some… don’t.” Ah well. The jelly will come off in the next year. If only I didn’t have to bake the kid for 37 weeks, I would be totally cool with being handed a newborn and getting a vaycay at the hospital (where someone brings me meals in bed, I don’t have to do laundry or dishes, and I can snuggle a sweet little nugget that looks like my husband).
Anyway, hi interwebs! We’re back.