Psyched

Now that I am *cough* pregnant (sorry, still have trouble saying that), I often get asked how I'm feeling. Well, just by my mom. But she does ask it often. On a physical level, I have a general sort of distaste for food, although I wouldn't say it's all-out nausea. I know, if only I could bottle that feeling, right? It would have served me much better a year ago when I was trying to lose the baby weight. Well, not really trying to lose it, per se. Just hoping it would kinda fall off on it's own, the way it showed up. It didn't, but that's okay. Well, not really okay. But moving on.

I am also a bit tired, but that could be due to any of several factors. First, Bean has decided to remind us how difficult it is to have a newborn at home by spending the hours of 1:30 am to 3:30 am being ENTIRELY WIDE AWAKE. Which I wouldn't really care about, of course, other than the fact that he demands company. Can't figure out for the life of me what is going on, but it SUCKS. On top of that is the progesterone supplements (Prometrium) that I am taking to help sustain pregnancy for the next 6 weeks, which is likely contributing to my exhaustion. According to HealthSquare.com, here are the potential side effects of Prometrium:

"Abdominal cramping, back pain, bloating, breast tenderness or pain, chest pain, constipation, coughing, depression, diarrhea, dizziness, emotional instability, fatigue, headache, hot flashes, irritability, joint pain, muscle pain, nausea, night sweats, swelling of hands and feet, upper respiratory infection, urinary problems, vaginal discharge, vaginal dryness, viral infection, vomiting, worry"

It's hard to pick a favorite, but I would have to go with "emotional instability." Which, incidentally, does describe my current state. I mentioned on my other blog that I am relatively calm right now, due to utter and complete denial of my current state of knocked-upped-ness. Which compared to the recent stress of the process of becoming knocked up, is very true. However, I still find myself frequently vacillating between a flare of anger and a rush of tears. Which most recently happened when I started crying as this song came on the radio in the car:



Yes, I actually sobbed listening to a song by a teenager who won American Idol. A song that has absolutely no emotional connection for me, seeing as DH and I have never been prone to fighting in our 13 year relationship. Why does love always feel like a battlefield... you'd better go and get your armor... it just got me for some reason. Right here.

A foil to my battiness, Bean has been his usual happy toddler self. His learning to walk has been the best thing that's ever happened to me. He can actually play independently now... and he has a blast. He walks around the house, talking up a storm (sometimes breaking into a "go go go go go go" or "yesss! yesss! yesss!" complete with fist pumps), chuckling about whatever toddlers find humorous (everything), and flitting from one toy to another.

Here is, imitating his Daddy. Except he's smiling at the lawn mower, which I've never seen DH do.

Potty training is not going so well at this point.

On Wednesday we went to KidsQuest Children's Museum with preschool friends. The exhibits were cool, but it was JAM PACKED. Wall-to-wall people, I could hardly stand it. And then things got worse when we found ourselves embroiled in the Ink Incident of 2009. Think re-entry hand stamps gone wild, permanent black ink on Bean's khaki pants, an "emotionally unstable" pregnant woman, and 4 hours at home spent with rubbing alcohol, Oxiclean, and Spray 'N Wash. The manager did give me four free passes for a future visit, though. You can see, especially in the second picture, how anxious Bean is to return.

On the agenda for this weekend: hours upon hours of Twin Peaks on DVD. And of course, the new episodes of Monk and Psych. You are watching Psych, aren't you? Because it's the best show on television. Which isn't saying much right now, I do realize that. You just have to trust me. It's on Fridays on USA at 10 pm (or 9 pm, depending on where you live). Please watch it, so it doesn't get canceled. For me. Go set your DVR right now. I'll wait.

So yeah, I guess you didn't really need to come back, because I'm out of things to say anyway. We'll talk again next week, after you've watched Psych.

No really, please watch it.

(Now I'm all nervous that it won't be a good episode tonight.)

(But it's unlikely, because they are all so fabulous!)

(I am totally in love with the main character, Shawn.)

(Or is it Sean?)

(Okay, I'll stop now.)