Go Home, Ice Maker, You're Drunk.

I love the fridge we have at our townhouse. If we actually owned the place I would probably upgrade it, but for being in a rental home it's the nicest fridge we have had. The only thing that is a little wonky is the ice maker in the freezer. Works like a charm, but earlier this summer we learned something quite interesting:

If there is no ice in the bin below the ice maker it will not make any more ice. In order to get it to start making ice again we had to make ice cubes the old fashioned way in an actual ice cube tray and then dump said frozen chunks of water into the bin until it was at least half full of ice. It was more about random discovery when it came to it making ice again. We had no idea it would start up again and figured we would have to call the landlord at some point.

That being said, unless we manually lift the lever arm thingy all the way into the off position and there IS ice in the bin, the ice maker will churn along making ice all the time... Like, if we were to leave it on and go away for a month it would probably fill our entire freezer with ice... Ah, modern conveniences.

So, it has finally happened. At least I am pretty sure that it has, but you can judge for yourself:

 

Whilst partaking my morning meal, Spaz was draped across my lap as per usual. Her back was snuggled up against my lower abdomen (she was actually leaning into me pretty decently). As I was finishing my cereal the baby decided to start thrashing about and kicked out. I wasn't sure if Spaz felt anything until she suddenly changed position and stared intently at the area the baby had just kicked. She looked up at me, I gave her a pet and told her that her baby sister just wanted to say good morning. She then proceeded to look back down at my tummy in wide eyed shock and awe. I gave her a few more loves and all was well. For now at least.

 

I'm sure as the belly grows and the movements become more visible she might be more intrigued, or even a little freaked out about it.

 

The highlight of my otherwise craptastically exhausting day (I spent the night before thrashing about, not due to discomfort, but just because I couldn't get into a deep sleep) was when of the Unknowing at work told me that I look like I am still losing a bunch of weight. Part of me feels like I am lying and I even feel a little guilty about not sharing because the compliment came from one of the people that is always very nice, and I don't think would be obnoxious about my pregnancy. More and more lately, I think I should just start randomly dropping it into conversations with people that don't know.

 

About 75% of the people who work at my company don't know I am pregnant. The biggest reason for this is that I do not crave attention in any way, shape or form. I would much rather just come to the office, put in my time, and go home. I have some fun, and like a good portion of the people I work with, but I am human and try as I might there are some people I just don't care for. I don't treat them any differently than those I get on with, but I don't go out of my way to be super buddy buddy with them either. I just kind of coexist with them.

 

I am figuring that by the end of September (maybe sooner) I won't be able to easily hide the growing bump. Maybe I should start wearing really chunky cable knit sweaters... LOL. I have begun wearing some of my old "fat" shirts that I purposely saved just for this event. They are insanely huge on me, but I am confident that I won't NEED to buy any additional maternity tops for the pregnancy (I have two).

 

I don't think I will be able to re-use my "fat" shirts for kid number two in a few years since my goal is to finish my weight loss plan BEFORE having our second child. This means dropping about seventy to eighty (or more) pounds beyond the one hundred and fifty I have lost. I also am hoping I can get the excess skin removed after I am down that seventy plus pounds more, which could equate to another significant chunk of weight coming off. That's something I will address when I get to that point. 

And now my oven timer is about to start going off. So until next time, find a few minutes to enjoy a moment of blissful insanity.