I haven't written anything in a while. I've been feeling way too sick and exhausted to do so. For those who haven't heard (where have you been if not on Facebook?)- we are expecting child #2! I assume it's a boy, maybe because I can't picture another girl because I can only picture Brooklyn. Also because this child has already made me hug the toilet seat more than Brooklyn did in the entire 9 months I carried her. Stupid boys. I blame them for most of my trouble in life.
There's a few things I need to get off my chest today. Feel free to comment, agree, disagree, give advice, or laugh at me, as it appropriate to each case.
First of all, I find myself not so excited about being pregnant again. Maybe I've just forgotten that I wasn't excited to be nauseous (which is a very hard word to spell, by the way) every day in front of my classroom full of students. My students knew when not to mess with me. I had my "gangster bracelets" on. Really, just motion sickness armbands that serve the same purpose to quell morning sickness, but my students liked to joke about how I was a gangster because I lived in Houston, in the Alief district no less. They would say, "We're coming to your apartment to party!" and I'd say, "Oh yeah? How are you going to find where I live?". Their response: "We'll show up and ask where the white people are". Classic. Not exactly right, but humorous enough anyway.
But seriously, I am worried that I'm not very excited about having a second child. What is that feeling? Guilt that time will be taken away from Brooklyn? Fear of the unknown about raising two? I hope it changes soon. Sure, one main motivator in having a second child was so Brooklyn could have a sibling, but I don't want to turn into Mary Tyler Moore from "Ordinary People" who loves loves loves the older child and could care less about the younger.
Next, I need moms to tell me that during the first trimester of pregnancy, Disney movies are a perfectly acceptable babysitter. Please tell me this is okay. I don't have much choice when the room spins if I do anything but lay down, but still... it does feel a little irresponsible to watch "Snow White", "Sleeping Beauty" and "Finding Nemo" all in one day. Side note: Dory is funny even to a 20-month-old.
Lastly, this is something I said I wouldn't put on Facebook, because really, as proud as we are about our kids and their potty habits, the rest of the world doesn't need to hear about it. Well, you chose to click on this blog so I have free reign to say what I want- so there, HA HA. Brooklyn and I went to Brandon's baseball game last night (REGION FINALS!!). It was a crazy game full of home runs, errors, back and forth action, but ultimately ended in a 10-7 loss to Montgomery. I instantly hate them, not coincidentally because they have LSU colors. Who thought purple and gold look good together anyway? Barf.
Regardless, we got home late last night. Brooklyn finally fell asleep once we got close to the Skeeters park in Sugar Land, so she got a 15 minute rest in the car before getting home and me bringing her inside. She was so exhausted that I almost put her to bed in exactly what she was wearing. But she was so sweaty that I decided to change her out of her pants and just let her wear her giant (no kidding, Youth Medium) Lamar Mustangs shirt and a nighttime diaper and let her have a great night sleep.
The kid did sleep a good 11 hours after that. She woke up at 10 and I let her stay in bed for a little while, not knowing what a terrible idea that was. I walked into her room and noticed it stunk SO BAD. Oh, poor kid, woke up because of a poopy diaper, she may have slept longer if she hadn't had that. Wrong. SO much worse than that. As I write this, my precious daughter is laughing and playing in the bathtub in front of me, and I am preparing to wash sheets and stuffed animals covered in poop. Not to mention so was she. And her shirt. And her pillow. And her crib.
As if I wasn't nauseous enough already, right? I could use some strength today.