Tax Break Pack, on the way

Well, for anyone (or maybe just that one person out there...) who reads this blog (namely, you), as you may have guessed, I am indeed pregnant. 16 weeks today. And for anyone who can help with my current dilemma, do I tell people I am 16 weeks pregnant? Or 3 to 4 months? And how do I count months? Because with weeks, I am not 16 weeks until 16 weeks have passed and technically, I am in my 17th week, right? And if that trend remains, does that mean that though I am actually in my 4th month, I am still only 3 months? But then how am I in my second trimester when the first trimester ended at 3 months? And further, does that mean that I at some point will be 10 months pregnant? Holy Cow...See my confusion? Anyways, I digress. Or progress into an area that should be off limits (the scattered corners of my swirling black hole of a mind). Back to the land of the sane.

I think it's funny to tell people that I have a non-contagious parasite. It usually takes them aback. Jin, retreat.

This movement out of my crazy brain is not working, so I am just going to keep going. For those of you who have something better to do, like clean out your refrigerator, please feel free to go now, before you, too, are sucked into a never ending abyss of fragmented thoughts, and illogical logic.

First, I was super sick for a few weeks, and then decided that God would not make me that sick just for one little baby, so I must be having twins. Well, we went to the hear the heartbeat at our last doctors appointment, and we only heard one, and I swear to God, instead of enjoying the moment of hearing those 157 beats per minute, I looked at Chris, confused, because the damned nurse wasn't even trying to look for the second heartbeat. So, eventually, I decided that Baby number 2 (fondly named Morris the Second) was probably hiding under Baby number 1 (Elvis the First). And that even though we only HEARD one heartbeat, it only means that Morris is shy.

Also, during the first trimester, I lost a whopping 4 pounds. A guy at work, who didn't know I was pregnant, just said to me the other day, that I had gained weight in the area between my neck and my butt. We figure he probably just meant my boobs, which by the way, currently need their own area codes. He also said my face was skinnier. So, I guess it evens out. I mean, who doesn't look at the skinny faced girl with the giant knockers? Anyways, so I was pretty proud of myself for still fitting in my clothes, and not gaining too much weight (which was good, since my nurse practitioner said I was only allowed to gain 15 lbs because I was already so heavy...all muscle, probably). And then it happened. I went to work in the morning and came home. I put sweatpants and a t-shirt on, which is my favorite outfit, since it is loose, thereby NOT pushing any food I eat, back out the way it came in. Well, I went to put some jeans on to go back to work to shut the drawers down and lock the doors, when something terrible happened. My jeans didn't fit. It was like my belly was the little temperature thing that is put in meats when they cook. You know, those little things that pop out when they are done? Well, that was my belly. It just popped out. I walked into the bathroom and turned sideways, and said to myself, Holy Crap, where did that come from? So, I shoved myself in my jeans (and to be fair, they had just come out of the dryer), and then went to work, practically crying because now, I had to pee, I was hungry, and I felt like a stuffed sausage. And for those of you out there going, "You just ate too much while you were at home", let me respond with, no I did NOT. And while I can no longer remember what I ate, I do remember that it wasn't a lot. So hah. Anyways, I came home in a fighting mad mood, and promptly went online and bought some clothes. (you are all thinking...good, some maternity clothes you'll fit in to.) Nope. I went to Victoria's Secret and bought some jeans. These have a lower waist, so I figure I'll just let the belly go OVER the top. Funny thing, later that night, my jeans fit just fine. I'm guessing that the baby was rebelling, and stuck his arms and legs straight out in front of him, saying, "Hey, Mom, give my some chocolate cake!"

Speaking of him, back when Chris and I lived in Hawaii, we went to Dave and Busters, and did the "morph two faces together" booth. We wanted to see what our kids would look like. And here is the winner....

We're hoping that they do an asian remake of "The Munsters" because our child will be a perfect fit for Eddie Munster. And we've already bought him the tuxedo, because what child DOESN'T wear one around?

Anyways, that's my pregnancy so far...more exciting than Chris and I. Not as exciting as the dogs.