I was so excited to go to my blog this morning and see my little b.abystrology ticker say 13w! You all know what this means? It means I am barreling into my second trimester, folks! The Twinks are now the size of peaches. Seriously! Peaches! My favorite pie filling! (Mmmmmmm. PIE.) And there are TWO of them!
I'm pausing now.
So we can all let that sink in.
The other day my favorite playdate ladies and I took our kidlets to the pumpkin patch for a white knuckle ride of fear hayride and a romp with the gourds. I was helping Piglet untangle his foot from a vine and my friend Shelly says sort of incredulously, "You're SHOWING." Snort! I responded "And where have you been?"
I see her every week at least once, and sometimes more. And I would swear that I have been showing for some time now. But she said that she hadn't really noticed (mental note to get her an extra special Christmas present) until that day. I have to admit I did feel that I "popped" last Wednesday. Or it could also have been the herniated disk from bending over to get my increasingly violent toilet facials. On that note, they are becoming less of a small splash and more of a cannonball-like sensation.
Oh this will make you laugh.
But it is not for the faint of heart.
So if you can't handle puke, you should stop here.
Moving on!
You all know I cannot eat much these days. Even toast sometimes can turn my stomach. So my pukes are usually pretty bland in color.
Then one day, I went tearing into the powder room, puked and saw bright red in the bowl. Being the calm, even-tempered, non alarmist person I am, I of course immediately thought I WAS DYING.
I perforated my esophagus!
I have a bleeding ulcer!
I am throwing up my stomach lining!
OR.
I ate a slice of raspberry pie.
That I got from the pumpkin patch.

