Explaining Myself

So, yes. I'm the Queen of Quiet. Sultan of Subtle. Mistress of Mystery.

In short, I'm 13 weeks pregnant, and the proof is in the pudding...or scan, if you will. We wanted to wait until the end of the first trimester, so we're now sharing the news. It's been tough to keep under wraps, though. It becomes so ingrained in how your day goes, that it's hard to say "I'm so tired that I can't make dinner" without explaining why.

It's been a strange time. The first time around, my morning sickness was awful. Food, for the most part, was the enemy. The smell, nay the thought of it, was enough to send me running. Bananas, high on my good list, were suddenly banned from my diet. Same went for Grape Nuts cereal, avocado, beef, and I'm sure various other things I've since forgotten. I had to ask co-workers to move their coffee mugs farther away from me because the smell was making me sick. This was life until around the 5 month mark. I could eat, but it was all very precarious.

So far this time around, morning sickness is inconsistent, though definitely not as bad. I haven't really had to give up any foods, though some are much less appealing than others (and I don't usually know until shortly before the meal). Roast chicken might sound good in the morning, but not so much at 6PM. But, I've survived. Generally speaking, my "morning sickness" is worse at around 5PM, which means dinner that night will be leftovers or delivered. As a result of our increased take-out, I'm pleased to know that Santa Monica has banned non-recyclable food service container. One less pang of guilt included in with our Thai spring rolls. Mmm...spring rolls.

With the exception of my occasional bouts of exhaustion, things haven't changed much at the MetaHome. MetaDaddy helps a bit more in keeping the place clean, which is a constant battle with the Cheerio-monster roaming around. And I'm getting a few cheeky comments on my slowly expanding belly. He gets to giggle at the shirts I wear under sweaters...because they no longer cover my midriff. *le sigh*

On the bright side, he made me Nigella's gooey chocolate pudding. Priceless.