Alacazam!  All of a sudden it hit me…bam!  I smelled Kraft Singles American cheese.  The indistinguishable scent came into my nostrils and I the odor was unmistakable.  “We don’t have Kraft singles” I said to no one, or maybe the kitten who was sitting on my lap.  I wondered if maybe the kitten crapped and it just smelled like fake cheese, but that couldn’t be.  I had just taken him indoors and set him on my lap and he certainly didn’t crap there.

It’s the first weird thing that’s happened since pregnancy.  Everything else is typical, but even now, after a full scrub down shower and change of clothes I smell Kraft Singles. I do hope this side effect of my human parasite goes away.  Everything else at this point is quite nice.

My baby is somewhere between the size of a turnip and a large banana.  The produce comparison changes with every book or website I read.  They are full on dancing in my belly.  Just today, I got home from work, lied down on the couch and pulled my shirt up revealing my bare stomach to marvel as the kicks looked like popcorn exploding inside a bag of Orville Redenbacher.  Or maybe their punches…or fist pumps!

Ah, the glorious second trimester.  You’re not too big yet and your not sick any longer and your baby dances, can hear, and apparently is swallowing the fluid in the womb.  I’d say the only downside (apart from the mysterious cheese odor) is really needing your full night’s sleep.  I am not too tired ever.   This is because I demand eight hours of sleep a night.

Mr. Pilver does not need his eight hours.  Just the other night I went to bed at around nine or ten as usual and he followed me an hour or so later.  Then he decided we needed to talk.  Not about anything weird or stressful, I think the topic may have been about what groceries we needed or who was going to pick The Max up from school.  I have no idea what my words, if any, were.  But in my head I sternly stated, “I’m sleeping.  We can talk about this any other time than when I am sleeping.”  Keep my up past ten and I turn full on two-year-old with the crankiness.  The next morning at 5am he decided the conversation could continue.  So I kicked him in the shin.   Of course I didn’t.  But at no other time in my life can I remember HAVING to get a good amount of sleep.  Like now.

It’s bed time in Pilverville.  And if it was not I would try to nap anyways.  At least then I cannot smell the cheese.