4.04.2017

things a boy does

It doesn't really matter the question, the answer is almost always the same, five or six times a day: "'Cause I a boy and boys like <insert random activity> sometimes." I have no idea where Lucas came up with this response but it never fails to entertain [or disturb].

Some example queries:
"Lucas, why are you making a mess?"
"Lucas, why do you like that car?"
"Lucas, why do you have sauce all over your face?"
"Lucas, why are you playing tricks on me?"
"Lucas, why are you wearing an egg for a hat?"
"Lucas, why are you a contrarian?"
"Lucas, why do you want me in the kitchen?"
"Lucas, why don't you want me to kiss you?"
"Lucas, why do you smell funny?"

To be fair, "I a boy, and boys like to smell funny sometimes" does hold a good bit of truth, so I'll give him that one. But seriously, where does a little mind think of these things [and then stick to them with the tenacity of a python]?

I asked Jason today who Lucas got his odd duck-ness from and he just silently raised his eyebrows at me. Fair enough.

In other news, the marshmallow and I are plodding along. Week 29 is in that weird time period where it feels like D-Day is right around the corner yet also impossibly far away. If I want it to seem far away, I just tell myself I have the entire third trimester to go. Because, let's be honest, that last trimester when you basically live in the bathroom for half the day [Jason refuses to let me rig a just-for-convenience bed pan to myself, bah men] and spend the rest of the day trying only semi-successfully to comfortably sit, lie down, bend over, eat, roll over entertain a toddler, etc., it's an eternity unto itself. [I am honestly not complaining, just stating facts that need to be stated.] However, if I want it to seem like we're so close, I go through the following thought process:
-It's already April.
-In May, Jason is done with work.
-We then only have a month and a half to get ourselves prepped, physically and mentally, for munchkin number two.
-What.

On the prep front, there is also that weird limbo feeling, fluctuating between "We've got this" and "We are so not ready for this." There is the entire mental side of it, but there is also the more practical side [which we like to focus on because it is something we actually have control over]. We have to set up the marshmallow's new room. Sort through all of Lucas's old newborn stuff [how many breast milk stains on a onesie is acceptable on a hand-me-down?]. Wash.all.the.things. Figure out what things we'd wished we'd had on our first go-around and go on a shopping spree [JAMMIES WITH MITTENS].

Speaking of shopping, if you ever feel like you have this wad of unwanted cash or Amazon currency in your pocket and you're thinking to yourself, "I have absolutely no idea what to do with this richness. Maybe I should buy a melting face pig steamer or an Asian man wall decal or a set of finger hands finger puppets?" Don't do it. Instead, feel free to send it our way. We promise not to buy a headband with an attached mullet. We will only purchase things for the marshmallow. Promise. Or, feel free to browse our thrown together Amazon registry and grab up some of those diaper covers you've always wanted to buy but have never found an opportunity to do so! [Do not, however, under any circumstances, buy us a copy of this.] Logically, I feel like we've done this whole baby thing once so we technically shouldn't need anything this time around but babies always make logic kinda go out the window... We are preparing for the apocalypse here, people.

Since I have not blogged in such a long time, I suppose I should also supply some pregnancy-so-far details that I can reference in the future.

  • First trimester: So sleepy. And hungry. All the time hungry. Tofu and broccoli aversion [so much sadness]. 
  • Second trimester: Imagine a sloth. Imagine a Korean sloth. Imagine a Korean sloth with a fishbowl in its stomach. You are now accurately picturing me. Well done. 
  • Third trimester: We have arrived. Most days I feel pretty good and normal. 
    • By the scale, I've gained 12 pounds. By the mirror, I've gained 35. By my mind, I've gained 85.
    • My non-pregnant self sheds hair like a Great Pyrenees. My pregnant self sheds nothing. No more hair art in the shower. Sadness.
    • I can now eat two teaspoons of food per meal and feel like I can still breathe. Three is just asking for trouble. This does not mesh well with my desire to eat all the things all the time.
    • The marshmallow shakes my belly like a bowl full of jelly these days. He somehow knows when I'm trying to film it though and inconveniently stops whenever I pull out my camera. I think he's got a spy hole in my belly button.
    • I unashamedly use Jason to leverage me out of bed.
So. That's life right now. We are simultaneously winding down Jason's super tiring semester and gearing up for this summer's adventure of Vermette Family of Four. Here we come.

He's ready for anything.