Can we all first just give it up for Melissa McCarthy again? Politics aside okay, she’s unreal. She WAS Sean Spicer. I love that woman. Fearless and Hilfuckingarious. Okay, let me get my monthly check in underway. I’m at the 20-week mark here with the old pregnancy, meaning I only have 20 more weeks to freak the F out about having a third child under my constant supervision. Honestly, I am mostly more excited than freaked out, which obviously means this is going to be the queen B of colicky babies, who hates the car, and who has reflux with a side of dairy intolerance. And, YES, it’s a girl!! (In case you missed the Insta post.) I am so SO happy Vivi gets to have a sister, and I’m so SO disappointed Billy doesn’t get a brother. I told Samm I think I would be slightly disappointed no matter what the baby is for this reason, and she totally understood and did not even hint at the fact that I’m insane and need to get a life and just be happy Vivi and Billy get to have another sibling at all you ungrateful psycho.
So, right now is about that time I’m supposed to be reveling in my second trimester bump in energy. I guess I am. I’m not puking and spending my day in child’s pose (it’s cooler than fetal position and that strrrretch girrrl), but I’m also holding my crotch when I sneeze, willing my urethra not to release.
I’m sorry, that was a strong image of my anatomy I painted for you, so let me just hashtag constipationstation and we won’t have to really visualize the other end I’m having a problem with. I’m gonna keep the sexy train rolling here and also add that Tom refers to my comfy, black, ratty, cashmere cardigan that I wear almost every day as “your fart sweater”. I’m not being too proud here, but I don’t fart in front of Tom, okay? Never have…on purpose. But nothing makes you feel more like a woman than your husband perceiving you as dressed in farts. I’ve gone down a really dark path here, and I’m not sure how to get out.
Isn’t life really all about toots, poops and peeps anyway? It is according to my kids and everyone else’s too I’m assuming. Speaking of my kids, we moved Vivi and Billy into the same room recently to make room for this future babe. I was dreading it and had no patience to wait another month, so we moved Vivi’s bed into Billy’s room and it’s been…..awesome?? Yes, it fucking has! Can you believe it?? My definition of awesome though is Billy only jumping out of his crib once or twice at bedtime (sleepsack and all and I am a little weird for putting my almost 2 year old in a sleep sack, but I would wear one if I could) and both kids stampeding into our room at 5:45am demanding "dinnah" and movies. There’s actually nothing cuter right now than listening to their little conversations when we close the door after we tuck them in. And by conversation I mean Vivi asking Billy very complex questions and getting a one word answer from Billy like “yeah” or “dinosaur”. I was feeling super guilty about Vivi “losing” her room, but I can already see their weird bond getting weirder, and what more could a mother want, really?
Back to my second trimester and I’m going to wrap up here because I have some Cadbury minieggs to get into and I can’t enjoy and type at the same time. I’m setting the bar very low for myself. I have two tiny dictators to abide by and I’m growing another one. Some days I do all the laundry, clean all the dishes, bring the kids out for a quick adventure, and make a really good dinner, and other days I just change my underwear…because I peed in them…after I sneezed faster than I could kegal. But listen, I also got bangs, and it totes motivates me to keep my hair clean. I haven’t completely given up yet!