Sometimes I feel like this pregnancy is dragging along as slow as molasses. What I wouldn’t give to feel a kick or gain a couple pounds (without eating a sheet cake), to know the gender so I could get all cute and planny, give it a name, spend money on little pink or blue things… I guess just a sense of direction? I have a real problem with living in the moment. I don’t do it. I plan things. Future vacations, future houses, future cars, future fun things to do with the family, some other day. Future stages in this pregnancy. Perhaps I should be enjoying my second trimester more, be happy that I have enough energy to do my walking and keep up with my two year old; enough of an appetite to eat a healthy diet; and a small enough waist line to not feel like a complete cow yet. And I do. Sometimes. When I’m not annoyed and impatient with how slow the pregnancy is going and worried and paranoid that I’m not developing enough. I want those kicks bad.

And sadly that is the most interesting thing going on my life right now. Maybe I need to get out more?