Curly Straight

I'd like to thank my husband for staying up late and learning Moveable Type so I could start this new blog.

I view it as him paying me back for carting him around so much.

When I was 6 weeks pregnant, last week, my zygote was the size of a chickpea. Before that a sesame seed and then a lentil bean.

My almost two year old is the size of a good Thanksgiving turkey.

7 weeks pregnant

Now a raspberry.

Little T left gym daycare early due to slamming his tiny little finger (it’s not even the size of a mini golf pencil) in the bathroom door. Being the stellar mom that I am, I rushed him to John’s office so he could take a look at the damage. He declared him fit for duty, but did suggest I take Little T right home and sliding some Tylenol into him to help with the pain. After we left John’s office, still being that stellar mom, I decided I needed a McGriddle, now.

I usually try to eat relatively healthy. Sort of. I love organic food and would kill to have a TJ's in Providence. I’m known to shop at WF. But, certainly a few exceptions exist. Like the entire can of vanilla frosting eaten on the way home from the grocery store with one of the plastic spoons kept in the glove compartment for just such occasions. And almost whole Domino’s medium thin crust pepperoni pizza (don’t knock it until you try it).

For some reason, being pregnant triggers a craving for fast food –and when I get that craving, I need it satisfied. Fattening Delicious Bucket Of Lard - case in point. I needed them during my first pregnancy. I needed one today. Oh, and hash browns, which are two for $1 so of course I am going to get two. Don’t tell John. He doesn’t approve of my McGriddle Mania.
Mcdonald’s is not usually the Mecca of Niceness. Quite the contrary, usually. The workers are usually the meanest of the mean. I don’t blame them, in a way. But today? Today, the lady at the drive thru was sweet as pie. Sweeter, really.

She called me beautiful. Me, with my pink gym shirt on and my red sports bra peeking out of the shoulders. Me, with my crazy ass hair sticking up every which way. Me, who had just ordered the most fattening McGriddle – the one with 560 calories Mickey D's Nutritional Content, along with two hash browns, and a medium ice tea (regular, not decaf, with cream and sugar). Me,with the broken baby in the back seat. She must have called me sweetheart and honey at least three times each. She told me to have a great day and to be careful out there and she waved at Little T. I didn’t deserve to be called beautiful.

But my $5 and change got me that and more.

A McGriddle, some hashbrowns and a whole lot of happiness.

Queasy.

Dizzy.

Tired.

Pregnant.

First ultrasound tomorrow.

I have been sticking to the Slim in 6 program since I started. Pretty much doing it every day, with the one day of rest. Pretty much. Weekends in Newport get in the way and make me gain four pounds, along with the raspberry growing in my belly.

The program encourages stages. A Start It Up program, which is 24 minutes long, A Ramp It Up program, which is about one hour and then the Burn It Up program, which I haven't gotten to try yet.

Actually I think the premise is staying on the different phases for as short of a time as possible until you have it mastered. I have been doing the Start It Up for more than two weeks now. I did throw in the Ramp It Up once and then immediately decided I still needed more work on mastering Start It Up.

If they had Sleep It Up and Eat It Up programs, I would have mastered those by now, no doubt.

Could probably teach those.

There's not much cooler than this.

Right now a life is growing inside of me and through the magic of ultrasound, we were able to witness the heartbeat (159 beats per minute).

This little one (1.3 centimeter) is an actual human life growing inside my belly that will someday run and jump and laugh and play. How simply amazing is that?

Breakfast was fun today, although the food left much to be desired. TJ tried to pay the waitress in Play Doh. That didn't work out too well.

We played and looked at photos the whole time and I spent about twenty five percent of our total time there picking in Play Doh from the floor.

On our way out, a lady in a brightly flowered muumuu stopped at our table and said to me "you sound like such a good mama."

How sweet is that?

Next year at this time, as my sister so kindly reminded me, we will have a three-year-old and a four-month-old.

I'm craving pickles.

How very very cliche.

Rode bikes today with friends to Roger Williams Park. It's good exercise lugging twenty eight pounds of cuteness behind me. Huff. Puff. Good thing we had his hair cut over the weekend.

Stopped at Carousel Village and took a few spins around on the horses. Little T likes it now! The first couple of times he cried and pulled on my shirt, always exposing my cleavage to passersby. Luckily now he is more focused on saying "up. down. up. down" rather than giving the onlookers a free show.

We then found ourselves strolling around the Japanese Gardens where Little T and his girlfriend, V, broke into about four rounds of Ring Around the Rosie. V's sister got into the spirit too.

At one point, all five of us, the two moms and the three kids were all holding hands walking together. Aw.

Don't want to move back to the town where I grew up. It's just a little too sleepy for such a hip, happening family such as ours. Ahem.

BUT. The pizza. Oh, the pizza. Hamburger pizza.

This could just be the pregnant me talking, but that pizza could woo me.

Queasy. Queasy. Queasy.

All we have is diet ginger ale, which is nothing but a big ole tease.

Did I mention I feel queasy?

We went to Where the Cows Are today.

It was rainy so we only got to look at the baby cows in the front and buy milk from the store. We saw a hen with its babies. I was calling it a rooster, but maybe that doesn't make sense.

They milk the cows by machine every day from 3 - 5 pm, which would be a fun thing to watch with a little kid. Or by myself. Or with anyone.

Appropriately enough, we stopped to eat at the Beef Barn after.

Moo. Or as TJ says, when asked what a cow says, Boooo.

Why are there no seedless cherries?

9 weeks.

Almost the size of a grape.

TJ will be two on August 9th and we were planning on trying to potty train him after that. He decided to whip off his diaper this morning. I told him, in my motherly wisdom, "you need to pee in the potty if you take off your diaper."

The kid ran to the bathroom, I put the Elmo ring around the bowl, plopped him on it, and he went pee.

Now I don't know what to do.

I don't know if I am showing yet. Some of my pants are definitely getting tighter, that's for sure, but I don't feel like people look at me and give me that "she's pregnant" smile.

Spent a long tiring weekend in the City that Never Sleeps.
Wedding. Flowers. An astrologist who doesn't eat seafood joined us at our table.
Bus Tour. Buildings. Poetry.
All interspersed with mammoth amounts of food.
It's nice to be home.