I didn't know I know how to cook.

Since Kenny has started working first shift, some amazing things have happened.  For example, I can suddenly cook and my timing is impeccable.  When he walks through the door at five o'clock, I am putting the finishing touches on our suppertime meal.  However, the kids and I are accustomed to eating at four o'clock.  I know it's early, but it's what we're used to so one hour makes a huge difference.  We are all but starving by the time Kenny gets home.  Last night (taco night), when Kenny walked through the front door, we were already gathered around the table with our tacos to our mouths, just waiting for him to sit down so we could eat.  I personally was wondering if I was going to make it, stomach growling and monstrous attitude at its best.  As I finally took the first bite of taco, I exclaimed, "Mmmm, these tacos taste like heaven."  Serious as could be, Mae asked, "Who's Kevin?"  And then heavenly taco was spewed throughout the kitchen due to uncontrollable laughter from everybody except Mae, who still sat looking completely serious and now wondering why everybody was laughing.  I said, "HEAven."  She said, "OOOOooohhh.  That makes sense."

On Sunday, it was the nicest day of the year thus far.  Sixty degrees in February and guess where I was?  Laid up on the couch, battling the exact same fever-cold-chills-headache that I endured in January.  Kenny and the kids spent the duration of the day outside, playing football, baseball, riding bikes and doing everything else I would have loved to be doing if only I could.  They came inside when it started getting dark, exhausted and smelling of the outdoors.  I pulled myself off of the couch to use the bathroom and as I walked past Kenny, he said, "Honey, you look pregnant!"  That stopped me dead in my tracks and I stood there for a moment thinking really hard.  I decided that I had most definitely told him already, so I sputtered, "Umm...uhh...I AM pregnant."  Kenny rolled his eyes and said, "I KNOW, but you actually look like it now, that's all."  While I would like to believe that my husband was simply commenting on my beautiful and astounding pregnancy glow, it's much more likely (especially due to my appearance on that particular day) that he was referring to me looking like a human lard-o instead.  I just can't wait to resume running again.  I know that there are women who run throughout their entire pregnancy, putting on a total weight gain of two pounds, but that is not me.  It isn't safe.  In the few months that I have been running, I have fallen multiple times, run headfirst into things and rolled my ankles over hedge apples.  I'm perfectly fine with risking my own life to run, but not my unborn baby's.  That's just not fair.

And if you're already getting tired of reading pregnancy stories, you may as well quit reading until August, at which time I will be updating multiple funny baby stories instead.  So here's one more.  A few days ago, I was washing the dishes when Kenny asked me if I could feel the baby kicking yet.  I told him that no, I can't, but I do get that 'overly excited' feeling.  "Like when you're driving really fast down a gravel road and you get to the top of the hill...that feeling right when you're going over it.  I feel like that ALL the time."  Upon hearing this, Kyler got really excited and said, "That's SO cool!  I LOVE that feeling!!  Oh, now I just can't WAIT until..." and then his face dropped and he continued "...oh, wait, never mind."  To make him feel better about never being able to carry a child of his own, I told him all about the needle they stick in your back when receiving an epidural.  He told me that he just wouldn't get the epidural and I told him, "Then it will hurt one-hundred times worse than the needle."  True story.  I've done both and have yet to decide exactly what to do about this one.  I might just tough it out again and if I do, well, you'll know.  Wherever you are, you'll probably hear Kenny screaming as I squeeze his hand clean off of his arm.  He just recently recovered from Mae's birth.