Yesterday, we skipped merrily from the dreaded first trimester to the vacation second trimester. Or so they say. Whoever they are. I still don't really know who they are. But you know what they say...

I am now fourteen weeks along as of yesterday according to pregnancy math. Apparently I am supposed to start feeling better but I am not sure I believe it. Now that this is my second rodeo, I have come to the conclusion that all those pregnancy timelines and tendencies are completely arbitrary. *angry fist shake at the air*

With Emma, I ate up those week-by-week pregnancy charts, convinced that they knew what they were talking about. (They are at it again.) But let me tell you, there is no magic on/off trimester switch that somehow turns off the nausea and turns on the energy. NOPE, NADA, NO WAY. There is just a baby swimming on your insides, punching and kicking its way to freedom. Plus all the lovely hormones that go from zero to sixty in a matter of weeks and make you want to curl up in a ball with ice cream and Netflix.

(To all my hopeful parent friends, I promise that pregnancy is wonderful, but it is really weird and sometimes exceptionally tough. Happy baby-making. Don't punch me.)

All that if you are having a boy you feel this way and girls make you feel that way and week 5 is this stuff and week 10 is this stuff = UTTER GARBAGE and I want my money back.

Well aren't I just full of sunshine?

I am still nauseated, but I am no longer throwing up every day like the first twelve weeks (praise The Almighty). I can finally eat again but am still pretty selective as to what sounds good. And at this point, I am eating based on what I am willing to attempt to keep down, not what is "good for me". The baby can take it up with me later...

...while I enjoy all the cheesecake and buttered carbs. Okay, Emma can have a bite.

My palate is almost as selective as the 21 month old, who eats oranges like this.

#toddlerlogic

Speaking of toddlers, I am attempting to train her up real nice before baby number two pops on the scene. A 28 month old can babysit right?

Flower baby seems to be doing alright.

But I am starting to see glimmers of the second trimester promised land - more energy, less puking (horrible word), less crankiness, and more bonding with the bump. I even went so far as to put my contacts and make up on multiple times this week.

Emma didn't recognize this less harried looking parental unit. She came around eventually.

If they are correct, I hope the nausea goes away completely very soon (like yesterday). I am looking forward to feeling the little flutters of his/her movements any day now. And in all my vanity, I am hoping my bump starts to look more pregnant-like instead of ice cream and cheesecake-like. There is a baby in there I swear. Right next to the pound of lucky charms and pop tarts I had yesterday. Details.

I'm going to have to pull an Emma and switch to all elastic waist bands in the nearest future. Raise your hand if you have a round belly!