I wish titles were automatically-generated sometimes

I really am aiming not to talk too much about being pregnant, since there are few things more dull than other people’s bodily musings, plus, should all go well, this topic should drag on rather quite a while, but I am beyond exhausted. And also irritated and baffled that I am–is it possible?–starting to show at five weeks. Yesterday I went to take a “before” picture and realized that I was too late. The internet says this means I am: eating too much; gassy; having multiples (!); crazy; or just plain not pregnant for the first time. I don’t even know which one to wish for. I did show really early with Little Girl (like ten weeks) so I guess it’s possible, and I am short-waisted, but it still seems a bit ridiculous to me. Like my maternity clothes and other reproductive paraphernalia I loaned out, I haven’t gotten my pregnancy books back, but I think in the part where they compare the embryo to an item of food, it couldn’t be bigger than a sesame seed.

Anyway, in Husband’s continued absence we have been doing extremely well. Little Girl has worn panties four days in a row without incident, we have eaten nutritiously, the floors are mopped, we haven’t been lonely or bored, I cleaned out the attic and raked up all the leaves, and I am preparing for the end of the term of teaching (two months long at my university). Friday we’re off to care for my grandparents (I don’t even know what to think about the fact that my grandmother needs diapers more than my two-year-old) and Husband gets back Saturday, at which point he sweetly but stupidly plans to drive several hours to where we will be, not wanting to spend any more time away than necessary. Aww. But get some rest, dude. You know you’re not gonna sleep on that plane.