This Weekend

This weekend was a doozy. 

Friday morning we set up for the Pinewood Derby. I was looking forward to attending to see how everything played out, but Grace's fever spiked that afternoon.

 So instead of watching Derby cars race, I took Grace to the doctor and we lounged at home.

Making a brief outing for medicine once Aaron got home, in which Grace desperately wanted to ride the "big truck" and make this face. Aaron, sitting co-pilot of course.

Saturday was another day in while Aaron was at work. Grace partaking in her favorite "things she only gets away with while sick" aka her beebees (pacifiers).

Sunday we had to lug Grace to church because I was speaking and Aaron had to teach Sunday school. There was some crafty child swapping during the second and third hours because the Nursery did not want Grace and all her germs. I don't blame them.

Finally by Monday, our little 2 year old was back in the 98.7 degree range and feeling good. We rewarded ourselves accordingly. Double chocolate chip frappuchino (basically a frozen hot chocolate).

In pregnancy related news, I have come to the conclusion that the second trimester is, as the youngsters would say, "where its at." I am thoroughly enjoying feeling like myself and not being completely governed by food and its ability to make me sick or help me feel better.

The baby moves a lot. I had a serious talk with this little fetus in regards to it being my cuddly child. Grace was not cuddly. Grace was a busy body (and still is). This baby likes to move and roll and kick all throughout the day. I love those little movements. I stop what I'm doing, rest my hand on my belly, and take it all in since, to me, it is one of the most fabulous feelings on the planet. But my hopes of a mellow, snuggly child are getting kicked out the window. Bummer.

Although my cravings are in check, the babe still likes its greasy foods. I keep it curbed during the week with healthy meals at home and once a week I indulge in all things not good for me. My current favorite? Wing Stop. Chicken tenders dipped in mild buffalo wing sauce and ranch. Oh, gooooood night. It's like heaven on a plate.

My exhaustion is starting to creep up on me. I normally don't feel all that tired, but last night I fell asleep fully clothed, on top of a pile of clothes on my bed, with my jewelry and make-up still on. Quite the sight for Aaron I'm sure. But I know he understands, since he also noticed an opened can of mandarin oranges that I emptied half way and then proceeded to put back in the cupboard and leave there.

I am now 18 weeks, and the belly still feels large and relatively in charge.

I've come to the conclusion that taking pictures of your own pregnant belly is a difficult feat, and one that normally leads you to look awkward and feel pretty stupid. But then you can have fun with it and make sarcastically sassy looks in the mirror. Why hello there.

In one week we find out what gender B. Barns the Dos is. Any guesses?