As is the story of our lives, the whole moving thing is now old news. Boooooooring. So in true Hockenberry fashion, why not add another factor to the mix?
Ta-Da!
 |
| In case you're wondering, yes, that is a picture of me in the bathroom mirror at work. Call me Klassy. Or 13. Whichever works fine in this situation. |
No, I didn't eat a really big burrito for dinner last night. (Actually, I did eat a really big burrito for dinner last night. And 2 baskets of chips. But that's totally beside the point.) There's a BABY in there! A real, live, non-food baby. Surprised? So are we!!! Seriously. We're actually still wondering how this happened. We were both under the impression that in order to conceive a baby you need to have some sort of "intimate relations". Apparently that is not the case. If you need confirmation of that, you can just ask Kevin since up until now he's been more than happy to bitch about it.
So how did we find out? By pure chance. I decided to take a test "just in case" before we went up to Michigan for hunting season, mainly because my mom had been going on and on for weeks about 1) pumpkin martinis, 2) wine, 3) pumpkin martinis, and 4) pumpkin martinis. She was so happy to finally be able to relax and hang out with one of her daughters since both Kerry and I have either been pregnant or breastfeeding for the past 2 years straight. I already knew I wasn't pregnant (see "intimate relations" above) but I figured it wouldn't hurt to verify it before indulging in what I was guessing would be copious amounts of pumpkin martinis. In fact, I was so sure about the results that I decided to verify before work on the morning we planned to leave. Immediately there were two pink lines staring at me. I hate to admit it, but I believe the first word out of my mouth was not a nice one. Nor was the second. I know the next thing out of my mouth was "Kevin! Wake UP! We have a really big problem!".
Now before you get all high and mighty on me for referring to our little bundle of joy as a problem, you have to understand a few things. For starters, we already have a kid. A toddler. And when people have asked when we were going to try for the next one, we said when we've made it through the first one. We haven't even come close to achieving that goal yet. Second, I breastfed Greyden for a full year. Which means that the day I took my pregnancy test was just shy of a month from the day I quit. I had JUST started being able to have a glass of wine with dinner or a few beers on the weekends with friends. And I was finally able to drink coffee without worrying about whether or not it was decaff. In short, life was just starting to become highly enjoyable again. Yes, I know I've done it before so it shouldn't be that hard this time around. But with Greyden I was mentally prepared and completely aware and committed to the sacrifices I'd have to make while being pregnant for 9 months. This one? Yeah, it kind of came out of left field...
This pregnancy is treating me pretty much the same as the last one though. I'm back to having that “morning after drinking binge” feeling pretty much all day, every day. And the sight of certain foods gives me the “that’s definitely the liquor/beer that I binged on last night” feeling as well. Ughhhhh. But so far I only had the one really bad day at my mom’s house where I thought I was dying. The rest of the time it’s just a feeling in the background. But holy hell have I been exhausted. All I want to do is curl up and sleep for hours and hours. I don’t remember it being this bad last time. Of course I didn't have a toddler last time either.
You would think that the most ironic part of this whole situation would be the fact that we found out we were expecting again one week after deciding we were moving to Michigan. Au contraire. The most ironic part is that I finally packed up my maternity clothes 5 days before I took the test. And unfortunately, it looks like they are going to be needing to make an appearance sooner rather than later, as you can see in the picture below. Yes, those are the pants I was wearing at work yesterday. I was squatting down to file some papers and riiiiiiiiiiiiiip. The seam split wide open. And since I am completely anti-visible panty lines, my thong was right on display for the world to see. THANK GOD I wasn't in a meeting. I only had to figure out how to get from my office to the door. Luckily it was cold so I had my winter coat with me and could shrug it down around my elbows to make my break for the door. I was DYING laughing on the way home. I literally had tears running down my cheeks when I called Kevin and Mom to tell them about it. Kevin commented that I appeared to be taking it really well. I started to reply that it was becasue it was f-ing hilarious, then I realized that he might be calling me fat. In my defense, I've had these pants for years, so I'm sure the seams were just getting *ahem* worn out.
 |
| Yup, split right up the seam. No, it didn't stop me from polishing off the entire burrito last night. |
Since I haven't posted a picture of Junior in awhile, I'll post the one that my boss made to hang at her desk at work. It's from his school pictures (which we obviously had retaken, but I had to order at least a couple to show his future girlfriends.) Sidenote: Greyden LOVES to give kisses. Of course his version of a kiss is a wide open mouth coming at you, maybe with a little tongue if you're really lucky. As his mom I think this is just precious and love to get them as much as he loves to give them. (I also mistakenly thought this was the most action I was getting until the day of that faithful pregnancy test when I was proven highly wrong). Apparently there is also a little girl in his classroom at daycare who likes to give the same kind of kisses. His daycare teacher told me that she looked over the other day to see Greyden and Zaylei making out. *Sigh*. I have to give his teacher credit - she was nice enough to say that she’s pretty sure the girl started it, since she appears to be quite the player with all of the little boys. So does that mean we're not already failing as parents at the ripe old age of 1?
