Oh, my God. I totally forgot I have a blog... again. (I always start my entries like this, don't I? Must stop doing it).

Sound of husband doing the dishes in the kitchen. The most adorable sound in the world. Also a background noise of little Janis howling in the backyard (my adorable 1-year old pregnant basset hound). Jimi (Hendrix), her own brother, knocked her up before puberty. Sheesh. The interesting part is that she's one-month pregnant and she's gonna be a mom before I am! I've been pregnant for six months! Gaaawd.

I'm kidding. It's been awf-- wonderful. Awfully wonderful. I haven't precisely enjoyed every second of it, no. I've had my bad days, my crankiness, scary hormones and mood swings, extreme fatigue, I've never hated house chores more than now and I really do not enjoy having to pee every 5 minutes. Still, it's the happiest time I've had in my entire life. Both baby and parents are as healthy as can be. We're at our 28th week and feeling those baby kicks every day now. Doesn't exactly help me sleep through the night, but still, adorable as hell. He even kicked Sergio on the face one time.

I've enjoyed sharing every part of it with Sergio. Every wonderful and scary thought, weird dream and funny idea I've had since I found out I was pregnant. I started writing a sort of pregnancy journal on a composition book. I wanted to buy one online and even looked for options at Barnes & Noble and I was close to buying The Belly Book, but I didn't want to fill out someone else's questions with my answers. I wanted a real journal about my first pregnancy experience. So I made one myself.

I'm filling it with all kinds of things: cravings, bodily functions, dreams, ultrasounds, pictures of my belly, vitamins I'm taking and how my husband and I have been living the experience of baby-proofing our lovely home.

Yup, still living at the same hobbit house with the blue door. I just love it here and I don't plan on moving anytime soon. Finally getting rid of all the boxes we stored in that extra room we had so we can get Behr's mint majesty and paint the baby room. Crib's already been delivered, baby blankets, car seat, stroller and many other baby stuff they make us buy. And there's much more of that still on the way. Promise to share baby room pic next time, when it's finished (if it ever is).

By the way, IT'S A BOY! Yes, I admit it, it's completely true: We both wanted our first-born to be a boy. Not because we don't want a girl, we want a princess just as much. We just wanted the first one to be our little hero who'll take care of his younger siblings, however many there may be in the future. We would love four kids. It's always been our number ever since we started dating. But, I guess we'll start off with the two and see where it goes from there.

Wow... It really amazes me how much this baby will be truly loved, spoiled, played with, adored. He's the first of a new generation, like I said, on both my parents' and in-laws' sides. He's still a-cookin' and already has got a lot of fans waiting to meet him, hungry uncles and aunts and starving grandparents. Needless to say, his parents are completely in love with every fiber of his being and his mom can't wait another minute to hold him.

Baby name can't be revealed just yet, but we've got some ideas... Since it's not yet carved on stone, please share possible awesome names for awesome baby boy below!

It seems to be that everytime I come back to write something on my blog, I'm either getting engaged, getting married or getting pregnant... Wait, what? Yes! I'm preggers! I have a bun in the oven! I'm expecting a baby! I'm gonna be a momma! Holy Christ almighty. Since I got that positive pee stick [insert goofy dance here], I've been happy as a hippo and scared shitless at the same time.

We actually said we were gonna wait a few years, but one night I woke my husband up and told him I didn't wanna wait anymore. He jumped on me and did his thang. We had so much fun in the whole baby-making process. Took us a few months to get it, which made it even more fun. Tried all kinds of different things, did a lot of excercise and healthy eating and even lost a few pounds. It was good for us!

Now, of course, I'm not excercising as much and I've been having all kinds of food cravings. But, hey, at least I'm not drinking anymore even though it seems that everytime I turn around everyone's cracking open a Bud Light behind my back. I don't even miss beer that much, I miss my wine. I miss my morning coffee. I know it's not really all that bad for you, but I'd rather not risk anything. I'm not even dying my hair, which means I'm something between a readhead and a brunette right now. I don't jog anymore. I'm not even enjoying my social ciggie I like to have once in a while. Completely altered lifestyle.

I've been reading What To Expect When You're Expecting, as all first-time mothers should. I'm only starting off my second trimester and already have had almost every symptom in the book. The most common one is neverending peeing and fatigue. Gawd. I can't even get myself outta bed to pee sometimes. Thank my lucky stars that teachers get a lot of vacation time. I'm sleeping and resting and napping like there is no tomorrow. Even in the toilet, I find myself snoozing.

Thankfully, I married my husband, the sweetest, most patient man you could ever meet. My baby hormones get crazy around him when I see him doing the dishes. My knight in shining armor! I totally, utterly and completely hate doing the dishes. I HATE IT. And he does that and many other things around the house without any complaint. He's been my angel these first three months and I love him for it. Let's just hope he doesn't crack one of these days with my mood swings.

Maybe we'll find out if it's a boy or a girl this week! We're already looking into baby names, ordering all kinds of baby stuff and cute useless crap on Amazon to spoil our little brat, painting the baby room, brainstorming on ideas for the play room... We are incredibly excited about this! As are our parents, for it's both my parents' and in-laws' first grandchild. He/she shall be spoiled indeed.

Of course we have absolutely no idea what to expect. And, no disrespect for this book, but nobody can really know what to expect until you're there, in the delivery room, holding your gushy purple baby in your hands for the first time. And even then, I fear both of us will be scared to do anything around him/her. Will we drop him on his head? Will we feed him too much that he'll explode? Will he/she stop crying when we try to soothe him? Infinite questions with inifinite possible answers, and I guess we just have to pick it up along the way and hope for the best.

One thing I'm sure of is that we're definetely gonna be an awesome family. 'Cause me and my hubby are an awesome team and our genetics are so awesome that I know we'll have an awesome baby to go along with all our awesomeness.

More on scary hormones later.

Writing on my blog everyday might be a challenge, but I'll try to keep up. Wasn't exaclty a new year's resolution, but I believe I wrote something about writing more. Or was it reading more? Can't remember. I have this personal tradition to write my resolutions and seal them in an envelope, which I can't/won't read 'til next year starts. That way, I can totally forget about them and be disappointed in myself every year. Yay.

Did I tell you I'm a kindergarten teacher, by the way? Yup. Two years now. Second grade. My kids are both awesome and psychotic. One of them jumped on me today like a gorilla and probably broke my cervix. Or cervical. One of those.

I'm still an amateur. I just need one of 'em to look at me with that doe-eyed face of theirs to fall into their evil plots to eat my cookies and creamy strawberries I bring for lunch. That or let them paint my face with permanent markers. Yes, it's a true story. No, I didn't know they were indelible. They were Sharpies!

The most wonderful thing about being a kindergarten teacher is that I end up every night taking a nice warm bath to get rid of all the glue, boogers and all kinds of shit they get in my hair. Also, I get the flu every other day, but at least –for the time being– my classroom is lice-free. *sigh* I love my job. Plus, it's great practice for when I'm a mom. Won't let them take control of me with their cuteness by then. Gosh. When that day comes, I'm gonna be so well-trained I will get my own kids to do their yoga while I change their diapers in 30 seconds. While stoned.

Is four really that big a number? I come from a family of six and I'm used to the noise and the beatings. Certainly worked for us. Every person I drop my apparently big number to, goes into shock. Then again, they're always either workaholic deep-pockets or dumb trophy-wives-in-the-making who couldn't possible function without a maid, cook, nanny and limousine driver. You know, boring people.

I'm just realizing (yes, on the second post I write in who knows how long) that I'm being really agressive now that I've come back to my blog. Maybe it's my alter ego letting itself go after being extra nice at work to my kids, boss and deeply obsessive mothers, so I come home and sweat it all off on you. But in real life, I'm really very sweet. I kiss my mom in the morning, I hug my 5-year-old rug rats until I suck the very life out of them, and I go to church when people die. I'm a goddamn princess!

I even dressed up as one at work this past Halloween (well, not really Halloween, but this "Carnival" crappy name they came up with because we mexicans don't celebrate the awesomeness of witches, ghosts and zombies who should be rulers of the world). I dressed up as Princess Merida, from Brave, and a very improvised one with stuff I had laying around in my three closets (seriously, there's three of them). Of course I was defeated by all the pretty girls who were wearing the exact same costume. Damn them.

Some of them even came up to me –with their big fake wigs and starry eyes, I might add– and said with their squeaky voices: "Are you the real Princess Merida?" (this belief coming from my provisional redheadness). Omigah, so cute! I felt a clear warmth take hold of my heart as they fulfilled my long-lost wish to be finally recognized discovered as a real live princess. "No", I replied, "I'm actually Madame Medusa, only I grew my hair out." They laughed and ran off, totally not getting the reference.

...And for my young readers who were born in the nineties and didn't get it either, The Rescuers is an awesome 1977 Walt Disney Animated Classic in which Madame Medusa is an evil red-headed (hint!) pawn shop owner who kidnaps young 4-year-old orphan girl named Penny. If only the music or gym teacher (only two male teachers in the area) had played the idiotic Mr. Snoops, I would've scared the living crap out of those girls. I know they used to freak me out when I was their age.

Ugh. Once again interrupted the exact same way I was yesterday by jumpy boyfriend at my door. (Just kiddin', hon, I love you). Don't hate him as much when he adorably brought back the shirt I bought last sunday in a flea market, El Corredor del Arte, off a man who hand-paints Lautrec on his T-shirts. Had to buy one.

Anywho, wedding planner mode. See you soon.