Wham!

Well, PB's a little late for the Mother's Day celebration but I felt my first actual kick today.  Future Rockette or Black Belt?  I wouldn't be surprised by either.  I'm not even 20 weeks and "wham!" - oh, hey in there.  Yes, I feel you. 

Some background:
I had been up since 2:45, unable to truly fall back asleep, then I was off to the dentist at 8:00 AM.  After a three-hour car appointment before our upcoming vacation to replace the brakes and rotors (talk about timing!), I finally got home at 1:00 PM.  I was exhausted.  Why?  No idea.  Sitting on my butt in Starbucks, drinking Oprah chai's really took it out of me, I guess.  I told Oscar I was just going to lie down for 20 minutes and that I'd take him to the park after.  Just kidding.  I woke up to the little kick at 3:15 PM.  Whoops.  Sorry, kid.  I slept through your lunch.  PB was not a happy camper.  Immediate bagel action required. 

Really, this relationship is a lot like Seymour and Audrey II (the plant from "Little Shop of Horrors.")  FEEEEED ME, SEYMOUR!  Constantly.

After semi-listening to a positively charming childbirth class sent to me via email by my hospital group ["these are forceps which may be used to guide the baby's head out of the birth canal"], I feel the need to stuff my face again.   Excuse me.  "Twoey" is calling.