Food Confessions, Etc

Ugh, you know it's not going to be a good eating day when you've already had 2 cookies by 9am. A little breakfast dessert, if you will, since perhaps, as I did, you also already had a deli-sized (read: not your run-of-the-mill, teeny-tiny Lender's) bagel with cream cheese. And the only thing keeping you from having a third cookie is that there's only one left in the bowl, and you don't want to be THAT person who takes the last cookie, and has to wash the cookie container.

I'm telling myself that the baby is getting ready for a growth spurt. Perhaps by next week it will have moved on from the size of an avocado (4.5 inches long, 3.5 oz, in case you were wondering) to roughly the size of a watermelon. THAT is the extent of my appetite this week, I kid you not. I also think it explains the lame 9:30pm bedtime I had to invoke Saturday night, and the almost 2-hr nap I managed to take yesterday. I, who have not had much napping success this pregnancy (just can't sleep, darn it), much to my dismay. Thank goodness Finn was also in the mood for sleeping, and allowed me such a long nap.

In other pregnancy grumblings, I've been having issues picking out clothes to wear each morning. Is it weird that I refuse to wear things that make me look "too pregnant?" It's no longer a secret at work that my oven is officially cooking a bun. So what gives? Who cares if my outfits now make it patently obvious that I'm on my way to looking a whole lot like one of the Tweedle twins (minus the red cap)? And yet it does matter. I'm only 16 weeks and a couple of days here. It's too early for those "are you sure there's only one baby in there?" or "still pregnant, eh?" comments. I know they will come, but damn it, they better not be trotted out until I'm at least 35 weeks!

The sad thing is that I can fill out those tent-like maternity tops more than I would like. Not because my uterus suddenly needs a new zip code. No, instead it's the dreaded upper abdominal tire. The one that unenlightened people might THINK is the baby, but if they truly knew where the baby was (below the belly button, folks, well below), they would realize that it's just all that extra flesh being pushed up and out of the way to make room for said uterus. Gah.

It's really not as bad as I make it out to be, but since I've been too lazy to take any "belly shots," I guess I can't really prove that to you. It's too bad, since M. and I were pretty faithful about documenting my growing belly (and weight) with Finn. Is this just the start of always giving the second kid "the shaft?" Starting the trend of giving him less attention and more neglect (freedom?) compared to his older brother?

Note, my use of the words "him" and "his" do not mean anything, we are still in the dark about gender here, and plan to stay that way. Just doing a little educated guessing, that's all.

I'd write more, but it's already 10:25, and I'm starting to count down the minutes until it's socially acceptable to eat lunch. I'm hoping to hold off until 11:30. I just can't fixate on the clock AND blog at the same time. Besides, the only other thing I could really find to write about is Finn, and how he is making such a liar out of me (I HAD to go and write about how wonderful he was being, didn't I?), what with all the whining and hitting (yes, hitting! My baby is hitting! Me!) and tantrum-throwing. And I just don't have it in me to write a behavioral post, where I detail all our strategies, mostly ineffectual, and beg for more from you experienced moms and dads out there. So, yes, that's all for now.