Apropos of Nothing, except I Want to Take a Nap and Annaliese, being K's daughter, won't Let Me

So, I'm pregnant. And in my second trimester. Woo!

Several of my internet friends (staying-at-home, with no friends having babies, go ahead and JUDGE ME), are also preggers with their second child.

One says that every food she eats tastes like manna from heaven but she has to lie down for two hours after every meal.

Another is crying at Pampers commercials and cheesy teenage gymnast movies.

Me? I feel... the same. Except a wee bit thicker, occasionally in the early afternoon overwhelmingly tired (which is the same as my first pregnancy), and now given to staring at my first child and saying things like, get used to not being the center of attention, kid.

I'm actually less moody than ever before. Because I don't have time to get worked up about things. 

But I would like to officially State On The Record that K. is the LEAST SYMPATHETIC PERSON towards pregnant women ever. He doesn't think it's cause for legitimate ANYTHING-- be it a nap, a food craving, or balking at carrying refrigerators.

(Oh that's right, my friends. Six months pregnant with Annaliese, our new refrigerator arrived, and when I expressed hesitation at the idea of carrying our old one out of our house, down steps, and to the curb, and replacing it with a new one, K. looked at me and said-- I don't see anyone else who's going to help.)

And yeah, I carried the refrigerator and it was fine, and yeah, I've always been fond of a good nap and Snickers bars and potstickers, but man. It would serve him right if I was the neediest of all needy pregnant women, who wanted pistachio ice cream at four am, refused to have sex, and spent the day fanning themselves on chaise longues.

So there.