We are almost finished getting this place looking like a home, and  I have been feeling better for about a month now so I thought I would start calling my friends.  My home number is DELETED.  So if you see that on caller ID, it’s me!    I’m still not quite back up to my pre-pregnancy weight, but I am very close, and my belly button is starting to look weird because my stomach is getting kinda big.  That’s good news.  I’m also dealing with a very very very active little boy.  He likes to kick…..in the guts.   Odd feeling.

Jessie and I were running errands the other day and we decided to just get dinner from a drive-thru because if I wait too long to eat I puke (go figure) so we go to a Wendy’s and we order our food and we are waiting by the window to get our food and it is taking a really really long time for our friggin food to come through.  It might surprise some to know that there is a HUGE Mexican population up here.  There are a LOT of Spanish-speaking people up here.   Not a bad thing, just not what I would have thought.  ANYWAY, the people who worked the window at this Wendy’s were predominantly Spanish-speaking and were not totally 100% on English yet.  To get to the point, Jessie and I were joking around while waiting and Jessie was making jokes about drive thru’s and he was retelling a joke from a stand-up comedian we had seen where he was talking about how when he was a teen he worked drive thru’s and there were always people who never spoke directly into the receiver at the drive thru or never spoke loud enough and all he could ever make out was “pickles”.  So Jessie started using the funny voice the comedian used and was sitting there saying “pickles” over and over again, making me laugh.  FINALLY we got our food, and the lady in the window was looking a little confused, but we didn’t pay much attention and went on our merry way.  We go park somewhere so we can inhale our food, and Jessie unwraps his burger and it is piled sky high with pickles.  I guess the people at the window heard him saying it and joking and assumed he wanted a pickle burger or something.  You probably just had to be there, but it was hilarious.

This kid is making me proud already.  He is getting pretty big.  He’s about 7-8 inches from head to butt, so he’s a good size now.  When he kicks I can put my hand over my stomach and feel it in my hand now, so I try to share that with Jessie and if Lukas is being active and kicking the crap out of me, I grab Jessie and put his hand where I know the feet are.  Lukas becomes suddenly very still.  Jessie waits about five minutes, assumes the action is over, and removes his hand.  As soon as he removes his hand, the baby starts kicking again, so again I try to place Jessie’s hand so he can feel.  Stillness.  We play this for a while until Jessie gets frustrated and gives up completely, at which point a get kicked a few more times before Lukas goes back to sleep.  How horrified are ALL his grandparents going to be when they realize this kid acts like his mother?  Just another reason for my to smile every time I think about him.

I’m babbling, I know, so I’ll shut up now.  Expect some phone calls either later this week or next week.  I miss you guys.

Still alive folks.  I’m feeling well enough to take a small amount of time to start blogging again (YAY!!) so you might start to see a little more action here.  We had to move into the townhouse all by ourselves so it has been a really long process and I’ve been pretty busy with that.  Jessie will post pics of it soon on his webpage, along with pics of Lukas’ room.

Monday was our two year wedding anniversary.  We went out to a fondue restaurant and I was surprised at how nice it was.  When I think fondue, I think of orange shag carpet and Steppenwolf, but this place was actually pretty kickass.  It was nice to just sit down with Jessie.  We’ve been running around like decapitated chickens lately and it was nice to take a breather.  Unfortunately, I ended up being slightly constipated from the delicious cheese fondue.  It might have also had something to do with the bagel and gargantuan amounts of cream cheese I had for breakfast, or the Cheetos I had for a snack earlier in the day.  I crave cheese like you wouldn’t believe, and my poor butt ended up being the one having to pay for it.  I’ll think twice next time, but most likely end up eating it anyhow…….cuz I don’t care.

I am extremely uncomfortable with this pregnant body.  I heard so many people talk about how they loved having pregnant bodies because they didn’t have to worry about being super skinny and blah blah blah.  Well I’ve got a belly that is hard as a rock, boobs hard as rocks, a flat ass, and veins popping out all over the frigging place.  DON’T BELIEVE THE LIES PEOPLE!  Pregnancy is NOT a beautiful thing to go through.  It is uncomfortable, scary, and oh yeah….losing 20 lbs. the first trimester is always just a friggin hoot!  You know I’m joking right?  Well not really.  The end product (a.k.a. Spawn of Jessie, a.k.a. Lukas a.k.a. my son) is what will make all of this seem not so much like self-torture.  Honestly I can’t wait, then I’ll have control of my body back and I’ll have a son to turn into a little monster…just like me

I really have nothing new to report though…….I’m not puking so much anymore, mostly in the mornings, but it’s very bearable.  I’m still very happy in my marriage and with my situation in life in general.  What I want is for you guys to start posting.  I’d like to hear how Aschlie is doing, and how Helen’s house and life are doing, and all you other guys I spy on secretly.  POST DAMN YOU!  POST!

I found out today the sex of my baby.  All I wanted to hear was that the baby was healthy.  All I wanted the doctor to say was that everything was in its proper place and that the child is developing nicely and in a relatively normal manner.  That was all I wanted.  HOWEVER, in the days and even a week or so leading up to this ultrasound appointment EVERYBODY kept asking me which sex I preferred.  Seriously, after the sickness and all the crap I didn’t care, but with all the heckling from Jessie, my mom, and everybody else with an opinion, I was forced to think about it.  Before I became pregnant and in the first few weeks of this pregnancy, I preferred having a daughter just a tiny bit over having a son.  I think that’s just a typical girl thing.  Every girl wants a little daughter and blah blah blah.  However, upon having an introspective look at my personality in trying to figure out which I preferred, I decided that I might be a terrible mother to a daughter.  I would hold my daughter to really high standards and expect a lot from her.  It would be very easy for my daughter to disappoint me.  I have certain ideas of what I think a woman should be and there are certain characteristics I see so many young girls flaunting these days that I find nauseating.  I would simply be horrified if my daughter became a product of her time.  I would disown my daughter if she showed any interest in  growing up to be like Paris Hilton.  I’m just like that.  I don’t see myself as a super motherly ooey gooey type like that.  I think I would be uncomfortable if my daughter wanted to be a cheerleader and was super interested in things that I find to be very superficial.  I would want to raise a daughter that aspired to be a Supreme Court Justice or an activist for human rights.  I’d be terrified all through her college years that she would end up on Girls Gone Wild.  I just think that my standards for what I would hold my daughter to would just be unreasonable and I would be unreasonably hard on her.

The next step was to try to figure out what kind of son I would raise.  Again, I have certain pictures in my mind of what I think a man should be.  I want my son to have backbone, yet be gentle and easy to talk to.  I would want my son to be intelligent and treat people with a certain amount of respect, especially if they are deserving of it.  I don’t want a self-centered frat boy who gets blasted out of his skull every weekend, uses women only for sex, and who makes a total waste of all his time by devoting it to only a couple things that would mostly involve him sitting on a couch.  No matter what I’ll have high expectations for my children.  I’ll be the one that is a little hard on them, I’ll be the one that pushes them to make something of themselves and to not just do what is expected of their generation.  I’m not going to ever win a mother of the year award.  These are realities that I need to face so that my kids can at least talk to me about it later and I won’t be an idiot and flat out deny everything.  I know myself, and I know my ugly side.  I know that I’m gonna be riding this poor kid’s back most of their life, trying to get them to reach for higher goals, to strive for something better.  It looks so romantic in written form, doesn’t it?  Unfortunately for the poor little preson who has to live through it, they may never realize my intentions.  I’ll just come off looking like mega-bitch as always.  Anyway, I’m having a boy.  His name will be Lukas Drake Canon.  He’s due at the end of September.  Can’t wait to meet him.  Decidedly, it seems that I could fuck up a boy a little less than a girl.  I’ll try.