The evillest thing in the world right now is a toddler who refuses to nap, argues everything due to overtiredness and then will not just GTF to sleep at (early) bedtime. I am wiped. I am so far past wiped, I’m living in bitchville, where my kiddo was rocked for a few minutes, until the protesting kicks pissed me off too much and she was deposited in her crib with a hug, kiss and curt, “I love you, go to sleep.”

The protesting is only growing louder and more dramatic and I’m thinking, “dammit, I need a vacation. Or a nap. Or a nap while on vacation,” knowing that I will have to go back into her room to soothe the devil out of her and repeat the whole lying down and bedtime speech. And I know it won’t do a damn thing cuz this is just one of those days where she is exhausted but will not give in and I am exhausted and only want to give in.

It’s moments like last night when I second guess myself. Well, moments like last night followed up by mornings like today. JDawg came down for a visit last night and stayed to watch a movie (Revolver, loved it.) and well, as he does, ended up drunk and sleeping over. And despite my lack of fornication with him, there he was at one am (keeping me awake, f@*&*&#er), spooning me and saying that he’s happy that I’m having his second baby - that he can’t think of anyone else he’d want it to be than me.

Cheesy. Normally a complete turn-off, like hugs from strangers who pretend to love me out of service to the family. Maybe it was the hormones that are already flooding my body (yes, I did cry three times while reading some chick lit today, thankyouverymuch), but it made me go “awwwwwwwwww” internally and say nothing out loud.

To compensate for this emotional effect, I made fun of him this morning for being sappy.

While he was taking Isobel and I out to look at baby stores so I could finish window shopping on a) carriers/slings, b) cloth diapers and c) belly bands.

When I started this window shopping, a salesperson at the first place that had the belly bands - elastic panels you can wear over regular, undone pants to avoid maternity wear - told me that women typically gain more weight with the second pregnancy than the first, so not to judge my ability to avoid mat wear based on my size with Isobel. What A Buzzkill.

Does that explain why yesterday, the beginning of my fifth week, I woke up no longer with six-packs and with a little buddha belly? Just a little fucking early for a belly, can’t we all agree? With Isobel, I wore size ones until about 20 weeks. I grew into them, FF’sS. But no, this time, I’m already unbuttoning my size 26 jeans by 2pm.

Which were in need of a belt a week ago.

My camera battery is taking forever to load, so even though tonight’s post was planned to be a meme, since I got tagged by a classy lady, I’ll have to leave it til later.

Isobel has already woken up once tonight, saying, “What? What? What?” was put back to bed with a sippy cup of water and is still not in agreement that this is, in fact, sleeping time.

While watching Blue’s Clues: Blue gets a baby brother -
“Do you want a baby brother, Isobel?”
*nods* “Good. Piss.”
(aka mommy’s heart broke at the cuteness of what she just said, asking please for a baby brother, likely not actually knowing what a baby brother is.)

Tonight for dinner, we had fruit salad of strawberries, blueberries and bananas with vanilla yogurt and granola. And neopolitan ice cream. To balance out the eggs, bacon, sausage and pancakes (and butter and hot chocolate) we had for brunch. This is how we roll.

JDawg is showing signs of excitement. And that’s fine with me, since I am. Excited.

Also, I am petrified of miscarriage, now. Seems like everything is in hyper-drive already and I get these twinges like round ligaments stretching. Every one makes me pause and go, ‘oh no. Is it starting?”

Paranoia that I will start milk production early has me thinking of potential nursing pad substitutes, since nursing pads do shit for me ‘cept to further draw attention to the leaking mammaries.

I bought an artichoke today. Now to figure out that the frick to do with it.

I also bought rice milk, intending to switch Isobel to it since she confirmed the other day that she loves vanilla soy milk - by eating all of my Vector cereal with Creamy Original Vitasoy.

Everything I eat bloats me and my tummy is already softening. I predict I start showing in about three weeks - when I will be two months along.

Everyday, I’ve been cutting my smoking down by a cigarette a day - quitting cold turkey is too stressful on a developing kiddo, especially during a semi-high-risk pregnancy. Today is a six smoke day. Sigh.

I have a work deadline tonight. The exhaustion I’ve been facing has made it so I will work up to the end of the time limit. Also, Isobel skipped two and a half naps this week, leaving me with five less work hours. (ie. exactly how much work I have left to do.)

I have at least three loads of laundry to do. Again. Most of which will be done tomorrow.

Almost all of my dishes are done, though, for once.

How much decaf coffee is too much and is decaf English Breakfast Tea okay?

I am a magazine junkie. Currently waiting to be read are the last three months of Glamour, two of Today’s Parent, one of Parenting and three of Real Simple.

Yet, I’ve been reading loads. Check it out.

I’m behind on three baby-related crocheting projects and have totally thrown two out the window. Then, I’ll start making stuff for Isobel’s future punching bag.

I really have wanted some potato soup that doesn’t suck. But all I’ve found to buy locally is potato leek or potato with bacon.

I am totally into this Eat Right For Your Blood Type book. I’m an O blood type - aka a cave man. This means dairy and I are not friends, but that I should shake hands with beef and fishies, and forage for more berries. Considering moving onto the blood type diet to see if I feel healthier - so much of the avoid category is like, “yeah, totally.”

I can’t figure out why I’ve been so damn cold lately and all I want is a hot, steamy, hour-long bath. BAH.

I bought duct tape today, at Evi’s suggestion. I won’t offer you the details, but it might mean a pedicure is in my future.

I think I’ve bored you enough, for now.