The morning after.

Yes, I was upset last night. Yes, I kind of sort of felt really disappointed in Peyton Manning's performance. Yes, I may have engaged in some emotional eating after the game.

But this morning I woke up, cheered by the memory that I'm less than a week away from this:

Two weeks of Winter Olympic OBSESSION. You can count on the Baileys to be parked in front of the television for those two weeks. And now we have HD! And a DVR!

Only five days, folks. Granted, it's five days until the opening ceremonies. I usually tune in for about fifteen minutes and then realize how boring it is to sit through all the dancing, banner-waving, parading, mandatory references to the Jamaican bobsled team, etc. Maybe I'll keep watching this year if the opening ceremonies involve Canadian rock gods Rush. Or Canadian sitcom god Alan Thicke. Just maybe...

It's the eve of The Big Game, and I can't sleep.

Last night's sleep was fitful at best. Thanks to two weeks of non-stop predictions, injury reports, interviews, etc. in sports news, I was kept up by Super Bowl anxiety. I can only imagine how Peyton Manning feels. The pressure! "Silly, Buffy," you're thinking..."the Super Bowl?!" There are many reasons why I care so much. In fact, I will number them.

1) During my very first conversation with Allan, he mentioned an acquaintance of his wanting to name their child Peyton. I responded incredulously, "Like Peyton Manning??" AND ALLAN WAS SO IMPRESSED THAT HE LATER MARRIED ME.

2) While I never cared one fig for the NFL prior to 2003, if you asked me what teams were my favorite, I would answer either the Eagles because of Chad Lewis or the Colts because of Rob Morris. My blood is blue, after all.

3) We lived in Indy for three years. It was then that I officially had a home team. The top story in Indy is unfailingly either weather-related or sports-related. You cannot help but get sucked into it all.

Now let's get down to points directly related to the actual match-up:

4) The media is fawning all over New Orleans. That annoys me.

5) The media is also picking the Colts to win. That gives me much anxiety.

6) Jeremy Shockey is icky.

7) Austin Collie has taken off, and I feel so proud--it's like my own son is playing out there.

8) Polls show that those rooting for the Colts vs. the Saints are evenly divided among political party lines. Republicans for the Colts, Dems for the Saints. I don't know about you, but I would sure love to see another Republican victory ahead of this November's mid-term elections.

9) Oh, and I have a huge crush on Peyton Manning.

EDIT: Allan put in number 9. Which I guess means that he has a huge crush on Peyton Manning. How embarrassing for him!

I can't believe we let him out in public.

I'm not going to tell you that Jack is smart. I think he is, but what parent doesn't think that of their offspring? I will quote our ward's primary president, however: "He's hard. A total rascal. Always 5 steps ahead of you." Like most four-year-olds he entertains us with his musings. This last month he's been on fire. I now present Jack's greatest hits from the months of December and January:

1) On our way to a meeting with the Stake President, Allan asks Jack what he thinks President Christenson is going to talk about with Dad. Jack replies, "The Priesthood!" Allan says, "Which kind of Priesthood?" Jack, without missing a beat, declares "The MORONIC Priesthood!"

2) My visiting teacher asked Jack what he wanted to name the baby. Jack tooks a good 10 seconds to ponder this question and emphatically replied, "Fireball!" It's six weeks later, and it appears this child will be referred to as Fireball for the rest of its life.

3) Jack's Christmas was one of way too many Lego Star Wars sets--and pieces come off constantly. It drives me crazy, because I've spent way too much time bent over the sets trying to figure out why the heck we bought ages 7-14 sets for our 4-year-old. Recently, however, Jack made a pretty difficult repair all on his own. I said, "I'm so proud of you! See?...if your brain had turned to mush from too much t.v. you wouldn't have been smart enough to do that all on your own!" He looked at me and said, "Mom, when you check your e-mail your brain turns to mush." Ouch.

4) Yesterday Jack told me that a lady in the ward said he could "come over and play on Tuesday." I said, "Hmmm...are you sure you didn't invite yourself over to play on Tuesday? Did she offer, or did you ask her?" He was silent for about twenty long seconds. Then he said, "I told her that she could offer me to let me come over on Tuesday."

5) Allan was reading Jack the New Testament story of the father of the young boy who had an evil spirit. Jack asked why the boy had an evil spirit, and Allan explained that sometimes when people were really sick it was said they had evil spirits inside of them. Jack then asked, "So Mom has an evil spirit?" Backtrack, backtrack.

6) Jack's been plugging his ears every time he comes out of the bathroom. I asked him if it was because the toilet flushing hurts his ears. He said, "I plug my ears so I can't hear you tell me to wash my hands."

If I fall off the face of the earth and it isn't reported on my blog, does anyone even know?

I've emerged. Those who were with me during pregnancy #1 could probably predict this would happen. I just spent the last 2.5 months sleeping, reading, and complaining. Jack has watched a lot of Backyardigans and has played a lot of games on pbskids. Allan has done a lot of dishes, folding laundry, taking Jack off my hands, and finding me passed out for the night by 9pm. He even tried to gross me out at times when I really, really wanted to throw up in order to get 5 minutes of nausea relief.

Allan and Jack = TROOPERS

In the meantime, I've lost about 25 IQ points to due to a combination of pregnancy plus idleness. I have absolutely nothing interesting to say. In fact, I've become the woman that I dread. I talk about this pregnancy far more than anyone cares to hear. I've replaced my endless analysis of my infertility with endless analysis of my pregnancy. And I can't shut up about it!

For instance, does anyone really care that I can't eat sweets or starchy foods without getting really sick? Probably no one but my mother is interested in that one. Or how about the rate at which I'm gaining weight? Nope. No one cares except Allan--and only because he's waiting for possible orders to gain weight so that our two numbers will never to cross paths.

In fact, the only thing that I'm sure anyone is curious about is whether or not it's a boy or a girl.

HA! We're not finding out. So there. For some reason this makes me feel cooler than everyone else. It's like we're one of those uber-hip couples who gets married in the Provo Temple. We're not going to cave into doing what 90% of couples do. We're going to be like our parents! And if that means I won't get as many baby gifts, SO BE IT!

Maybe the reason we're not finding out is because when I was toying with the idea of doing it the old-fashioned way, Allan said he didn't believe I could ever do it. From that statement on, I have been determined to prove him wrong.

The ultrasound isn't until February 2nd. But if I cave in and find out, you can bet your life that I will never admit it.

Heh, heh, heh.