Actual Conversation

Me: Hey, Shawn, what do you want for Christmas?
Shawn: I don't know. Hey, how about like a cloth that I could put over my shoulder, so if the baby throws up, it won't get on my clothes? Isn't that a good idea?
Me: Wow. Did you just think of that yourself?
Shawn: Well, yeah.
Me: Cause I'm pretty sure we're going to get some of those.

First Kick

No, not the first one I've felt, obviously. Last night, I was lying in bed while Shawn was brushing teeth, etc. The baby was kicking so hard, I was sure I could see a body part protruding if I looked. I called Shawn over, since I was afraid if I sat up, it would stop. He grudgingly put his hand on my belly, and surprise! He could feel the baby kick! How cool. Of course, it took me an additional 45 minutes to go to sleep, because apparently we had woken the dragon. There was some kind of party. Somersaults, kicks, hits, stretching. Every movement you could imagine, all going on until after 11 pm. I fear my childhood sins are coming back to haunt me. You see, I never slept the night through until I was three. Not only did I not sleep through the night, but I was a night owl, up partying. I'm REALLY hoping this baby will take its sleeping cues from Daddy.

Disco Mama

There is the belly, just at 22 weeks. I've heard the womb described as a "discoteque" for the baby - all the noises created by my insides, combined with the relatively dark atmosphere, and muffled noises from the outside. No one informed me that my entire abdomen was going to be a combination disco/mosh pit/soccer field/bongo drum. Between the indigestion, general intestinal issues (TMI), and baby practicing its dance moves/penalty kick/rhythm skills, it's like a party in my shirt! Whoo! I'm not complaining about the baby part, it's not generally hard enough to hurt yet, but the combo effect is drastic.

Also drastic is my new diet. Due to unforeseen heartburn issues, the Gremminger household is seriously cutting back on tomato intake. While this doesn't sound like a hardship, this includes tomato soup (my favorite), pizza, tacos, spaghetti, pretty much anything that has ever been within 5 feet of a tomato. Also on the bad list is orange juice, medium amounts of soda, many fried foods, and most citrus. I can stomach a clementine, thank goodness, because I LOVE THEM. However, this kind of cuts my options for healthy eating down. Actually, upon looking at that list, it kind of cuts my options for unhealthy eating down. Hmm. This would be why I've been so unhappy. I like chicken fingers, tomato soup, soda, and pizza! (No, I'm not secretly 8 years old, contrary to what Shawn might try to tell you) The one benefit - I am totally happy with mac and cheese...

Also interesting: had the first case of internal hiccups this weekend. Despite feeling like exactly what you think it might feel like, I still sat there wondering about it for about 10 minutes. Nobody ever said preggos are very smart. Shawn can't work out how a creature that is not breathing air could possibly have the hiccups, despite being reassured that it is a muscle spasm, capable of being experienced by any animal with a diaphragm. Hiccups have nothing to do with air.

My Darling Husband

I am on a baby high. I got to stop by and see Erin and Gracie tonight - too cute! Additionally, over the last week, I have purchased and received several baby items. We got the car seat and stroller, as previously mentioned. I found the bedding I wanted on serious discount on ebay, and that came in on Thursday. I also found two of those swaddly things (Shawn insists on calling them "swaddling clothes"), and they arrived from ebay Friday. Shawn picked up some cloth diapers for me that I bought off Craig's List on Wednesday. I am happily surrounded by baby paraphernalia. The ultimate bit though, is that my darling husband painted the baby's room on Thursday. Not only did he paint it, he picked out the color! And it is perfect! I try not to brag too often, but he really is the most amazing man. Not only has he not yet made fun of me for the myriad ridiculous things I have begun doing in the last 5 months (watch a women try to fall asleep in a pillow fortress while madly chewing tums...), but he has actually offered himself up to help me in various ways. He has offered to rub my back, make me food, go get me food, carry things for me. Maybe these are things husbands are simply supposed to do. But my husband continues to do them, with a smile on his face, through the complaints of TOO HOT, HEARTBURN, MUST PEE! He continually asks me what he can do for me, whether it is to make me feel better physically or emotionally. He never mocks my many physical issues, or sudden needs. He is just there for me, without question, without judgement, or even a snicker (when one is usually well deserved).

All of this is my way of saying that I am somehow not surprised that as I sit amidst the baby explosion that is causing my happiness, he is buried in the basement, calmly and completely ignoring me and my stuff. I think he's earned it.