The second pregnancy has been different.  I feel physically the same most of the time, but the major thing that has made this pregnancy different is our approach to it.  The best example of this is a decision we made preconception.

We’re not finding out the sex of the baby until it’s born.  

Reaction to this is has been twofold.  Some people are like, “What?!  What do you mean you’re not going to find out?!  How will you know how to decorate, shop, plan and generally gestate if you don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy!?”  Others are like, “That is so awesome! It’s such a shame how people find out ahead of time.  The surprise is the best part! It’s the way God intended it to be.”

There was no real reason behind it.  We just wanted to be different this time around.  Why not?  We don’t need to buy anything.  We have everything.  Seriously.  Our infant car seat, bouncy seat, swing, Pack ‘N Play, high chair etc. are all in gender neutral colors.  My husband said it best when he said, “Even if the chair was pink, my son would be man enough to sit in that pink chair because I remember how much it cost and we’re not buying another one.”  We have plenty of yellow and green newborn clothes our son could wear as hand-me-downs from his sister.  I’m sure the news that it is a boy would inspire someone to buy a blue little something to bring him home in, knowing we have quite a few pink onesies around here.  I’m not too worried about that.

If it’s another girl I want to bring her home from the hospital in the same outfit I brought Charlotte home in and then frame it.  It will be the treasured outfit I brought my girls home wearing.

Nov. 4, 2010, the day we brought her home in this adorably foofy outfit I thought would fit my tiny baby.

Will it be hard not to ask when that black and white image comes up on the screen?  Yes.  It will be tempting to find out, but we won’t.  We’re excited either way.  This new little person will round out our family no matter what.

Sometimes I’m really proud to say this, and sometimes I feel super guilty saying this after hearing the horror stories of my friends with Princess-Kate-Like-Morning-Sickness. You ready for this?

I went my entire first pregnancy without puking.

It’s true. It was crazy. Conception through delivery, no barfing. I was queasy and uncomfortable in the first trimester, but it never resulted in toilet hugging sessions. I felt like Jerry Seinfeld in that episode of Seinfeld where he explained he hadn’t thrown-up since 1980. It was 1993 by that time. That’s a huge vomitless accomplishment if you ask me.

When I made it through the first trimester this time I thought I was in the clear. No such luck. Here’s what went down, well, came back up…

Monday I had an event for a client at work where I was filming a presentation. A large part of my job is video work, stemming from my news shooting and editing days. We were at a very nice local hotel for the event. I got there early and had everything set up and ready to go. The woman I was working with was very kind and we chatted about families and I mentioned that I was expecting my second baby. As it often happens, when you tell someone you’re pregnant, they offer you food. She walked me over to the snack table of charming carnival food the hotel had on display for the event. They had soft pretzels ya’ll. Soft freakin’ pretzels. I suddenly needed something salty and was excited to indulge. I tweeted out this pic on Instagram…

That’ll teach me to brag. That’ll also teach me to dip anything in mustard, a condiment I’ve long had an aversion to. The 90 minute presentation got underway and I happily panned and zoomed across the room. The speaker’s remarks were interesting and I learned a lot. I only ate about half of the pretzel. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry. About halfway in I felt some rumbles. I got really hot and then really cold. I started feeling dizzy. I looked at the mirror over the snack table. Ooph! Pale. I looked down at what was left of the pretzel next to me. Ugh! I looked around to see if anyone was looking at me. I wiped sweat off my head. Oh God! No! Not here.

I quickly zoomed out, left the camera rolling and tried not to run, but just walk out of the room with any dignity I had left under the sweat. When I hit the hallway I sprinted to the restroom. I got to the first stall in the ladies room of this four-star hotel and made like a drunk in a first-star hotel. I cursed the pretzel the whole time.

Just the smell of mustard could do me in until this baby is born. I’m thinking this may have been just something disagreeing with me, not morning sickness. So maybe I can just say I made it through two pregnancies with no morning sickness? Is that too braggy? Yeah, maybe I’ll just shut up.

Dear Charlotte,

When someone asks how old you are, you proudly announce, “I’m two!”  This is usually accompanied by you holding up your thumb and pointer finger instead of your pointer and middle finger.  I hear Europeans start finger counts with the thumb, and thus you show two on your hands like an English or French child.  Daddy and are proud of your worldliness with this display.  Way to go kiddo!  Excuse me, Manière d’aller kiddo !

Today you are officially 2-and-a-half.  I don’t know if I want to tell you that for fear that you will stop shouting “I’m two!” These last six months of having you as a two-year-old has been wonderful!  Two has brought discovery.  You have discovered what you like and what you strongly dislike.  You notice everything now!  Everyday you learn something new or ask another question.  Just the other day in the car we talked about the traffic lights and how they turn green and red.  You shout, “Schoo Bus!” whenever you see one.

You adore your friends and talk about them all the time.  You name every kid in your class and talk about them with affection.  Today you even hugged each one before we left.  They all shout “Bye Chalette!” When you leave.  Two-year-old’s love to shout I’ve learned.  With this adoration of your peers comes fierce competitiveness.  You are not one to be pushed around by other toddlers and will vehemently defend yourself with a returned shove.  Sharing and being nice are things you and your friends work on daily.

You still love Sesame Street but your interests have expanded.  Any book or toy with Mickey Mouse is a favorite because of the hit TV preschool show “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.”  If Daddy and I are being honest, it makes us want to drive nails through our skulls, but you love it.  Being an ever growing girly-girl you have discovered princesses and adore any book or movie with a princess.  I am weary of too much princess because of the messages that can send little girls, but I like the newer princesses in today’s movies.  Besides, your favorite princess is now my favorite too.  You love Rapunzel from “Tangled.” I mean, LOVE her!   You talk about how brave and kind Rapunzel is all the time.  I like the “Tangled” story and I’m okay with your fanaticism.  I try not to get tired of singing the song from the movie in the car over and over to you.  I know it won’t be long until you ask for some other song and I’ll miss the “Rapunzel song.”

You love your baby dolls, blocks, books, balls, kitchen set, trains, dress-up clothes and games.  You are on the move all the time.  Sometimes we can’t keep up.  You have improved identifying your colors and shapes.  I can tell your fine motor skills are getting better and better when you color and play blocks.  You are more adventurous with your food, trying new things that Daddy and I like to eat.  We’re proud of how many fruits and vegetables you love.  Sometimes we just have to tell you that “Rapunzel likes green beans” to get you to eat something.  It makes Daddy and I laugh.

The potty is still a daily learning experience, but I have a feeling you will turn the corner soon.  Especially as it gets closer to when the new baby will be born.

In the morning I ask you what you dreamed about.  It’s  always the same answer, “I dweamed about my baby sister!  She took a nap wiff me!”  That’s when my heart melts and I want to bottle you up at 2-and-a-half forever.

I love you, my darling, darling girl.

Love,

Mama

Hold her a little longer.

Rock her a little more.

Tell her another story.

(You’ve only told her four.)

Let her sleep on your shoulder.

Rejoice in her happy smile.

She’s only two-and-a-half

for such a little while. 

-Author Unknown

We’re learning which lightswitch turns the light out and which one grinds up our food scraps. I’ve discovered drawers in the bathroom to stash extra shampoo and the best way to load this dishwasher. We’re going to be naked if the new washer/dryer doesn’t arrive as scheduled on Tuesday. Despite this house being about as “move-in ready” as a house can be, my couches clash with the accent wall in the living room and we spent more than expected changing the locks at Lowe’s. But, I mean, show me someone who doesn’t spend more than they plan to at freakin’ Lowe’s.

I’m having trouble looking away from Pinterest’s endless “Home Decor” category. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment who needs Pinterest to remind me of how much work I have to do and how woefully inadequate my decorating skills are. Yes! I get it Pinterest! Everything at West Elm is amazing, but $45 for a throw pillow is a little more than I want to spend right now.

In other words, we’re settling in.

I have to say, despite the boxes and misplaced serving bowl, it already feels like home. Tonight Charlotte and I built a tower higher than we’ve ever made. I was so proud of her matching the colors of her blocks and her telling me about the animals on each one of them. We’re already making memories.

I’m sitting with my feet up in my new living room with boxes scattered around and my darling husband talking to the TV about NFL draft picks. I’m deliriously tired and deliriously happy.  We almost didn’t get to move in because of idiot underwriters’ contract mistakes and slow bank workers, but we’re here.  This week I’ve felt stretched very thin between demands at work and the demands of moving, but we made it.  I keep looking around in disbelief that we are finally here.

We cried when we left the old house for the last time thinking of all the memories in that house.  It’s funny, just a few days later it feels right to be here. Let the new memories begin…