I seem to have skipped the part of pregnancy where people exclaim about how adorable you are. Straight from "Hmmm..... is she just getting fatter..." to "Good gravy , so any day now, right?" Here at almost 32 weeks, I have been politely telling well-intentioned idiots that no, indeed, it is not twins, and I am also not due yesterday. I had some hope that this pregnancy would be less, um, planetary, but I guess that's just how my body works.
What's weird about the second kid is how much you really aren't thinking about it. I am usually vaguely aware of my gravity-dragged heft, but the whole "babybabybabybaby" mental thread is mostly background noise to the toddler. Who has the mental fortitude to worry about swaddle blankets when you're busy cleaning pee off of every flat surface of your home? (Did I mention we potty trained the girl? Because only some of that pee is mine - I wouldn't want you to get confused.) Really, the toddler part of this is the most difficult part. I am not as fast as her. I am not as lively as her. My bladder control is only marginally better than hers. The only way I resemble her at the moment is the quick to escalate white-hot-rage over not very much. Nothing makes you feel like a good parent more than screaming back at an incendiary 2-year-old with a true Sam Kinison "AUGHHHH!AUGHHHH!AUGHHHH!" I can only hope that when newbornhood calms down, I will be back to my Zen patience state. I miss it.
Also, it's a boy! Hooray! Pee on all the things!
*From Thief of Time by Terry Pratchett