That's not a stuffed turkey under my shirt.

As soon as I announced our big news(!), anyone who knew me during my first pregnancy probably internally predicted that this blog would fall by the wayside until....oh, March-ish. Well, you are correct. The excuses are as expected--the only thoughts forming in my mind for the past seven weeks have been accompanied by moaning, groaning, and an overall theme of pain and suffering.

I'm trying to have a better attitude. Really.

Last week I was in Utah (See? I have other excuses). Between two twelve hour drives, an all-day wedding extravaganza, lunch at Cafe Rio, Mom's pot roast, my Mother-in-law's beef stew, and prepping for Thanksgiving, I consumed quite a bit. On Thanksgiving morning, before the real feasting began, I stepped on the scale. The needle had gone up five pounds in four days. Knowing that gaining five pounds of fat in four days is nearly physically impossible, I looked in the mirror. And there it was. A belly. The size of which I wasn't expecting for eight more weeks.

Ladies and gentlemen, my body at 11.5 weeks. Something is in there. And it's growin' somethin' fierce.

I have a post forming in my mind. Answers to all your frequently asked questions. Okay, so most haven't asked any questions--let alone frequently. I flatter myself, I guess.