Why yes, I have been reduced to posting exclusively when link-ups are involved. And just when this lovely little blog was starting to heat up.
C’est la pregnancy.
|Every new priest’s dream. And not a shabby morning for our family, either.|
Can I just say, being pregnant in Italy is a biiiiiig change from being pregnant in the US of A. Or maybe it’s just that every pregnancy is different, etc. etc. But I’ve lost 6 lbs so far (beer weight? Am I a frat guy?), and I’m still not showing at 11 weeks. (Due to, I don’t know…All the walking? No processed foods? Eating a loaf of bread a day?) Both boys had me in maternity fat pants by now, and I have to say my relief is immense as I contemplate walking down someone else’s aisle in 4 short weeks in a gorgeous bridesmaid dress and having the optimistically-sized-last-December beauty zip right up. Fingers crossed.
Also, stuff like encounter number two in Steph’s post never, ever happens here. Or if it does, the language barrier is such that I don’t know when it’s happening. Which makes me feel…normal. And even though Italy has the lowest birthrate in all of Europe and there are no babies here and there will be no native-born Italians in another two generations if they continue in this fashion…well, these people love babies. Not enough to actually have any of their own, mind you, but oh my goodness do they like to love on mine. And sometimes take them out of my arms in public places…
Joey and JP kissing ‘baby’ over and over again and talking to my stomach and making big plans for ‘baby Jesus coming at Christmas time’ and ‘playing trucks all together’ and ‘drink hot milk.’ Okay, son, whatever you say. Also, Joey insists that bambino numero tres is a ‘he’ named Tonio.
‘Baby has a penis, Mommy.’ Over and over again. Hopefully never in public, but there’s always that 11 hour plane ride on the horizon…
Baked potatoes for lunch, every single day this week. Slathered in Heinz ketchup, imported from a specialty store across town and enjoyed with inappropriate gusto. And did you know, Italian Heinz has no artificial flavors, colors, or preservatives? It’s basically health food, people. I only do the very best for my babies.Weirdest pregnancy craving ever? Nah, with Joey I couldn’t get enough of salt and vinegar chips paired with salami and cheese, and I hunted green chile like it was my job. I fatefully and regretfully consumed a super-hot varietal on the eve before labor, and, well, Yolo.
Go forth to Jen, and visit all my e-friends.