Who needs HPT's when you have...

1. Mood swings: Two hour bachelorette episode (not even the finale)- three separate "cryings" and I'm fairly certain one was triggered by a commercial. I'm also considering banning dvr'ed episodes of Beverly Hills 90210.
2. Nesting: PuddleMama is usually in bed by 10, sleeping by 10:30. So you can see why I thought it was alarming when she was carrying year old magazines out to the trash at 11:00 p.m. I had heard about this so called "nesting" before but I didn't think it would kick in quite so quickly.
3. Breast Changes: Or more accurately from my point of view- complaining of breast changes. I'll stop short of naming any specifics, but not all seem that bad from where I'm sitting.
4. Ice Cream Cravings: PuddleMama has always enjoyed ice cream, but not *that* much.
5. Fatigue: Yes, dealing with all the above has brought me to the point of collapse, but in this case I mean fatigue in PuddleMama.

We received a more official "positive" test result from the clinic today, which is certainly nice, but as you can tell I had a pretty good idea of the status already.

I also learned that PuddleMama is officially in her 5th week of the pregnancy, which seems illogical and even ridiculous because the first two weeks of pregnancy do not require *any* sort of male participation. Apparently it is just an easier way to accurately track development from start (or pre-start?) to finish.

And despite a bit more of symptom #1 above for PuddleMama, the smile has yet to leave my face.

PREGNANT!

That's right! PuddleMama is pregnant! WOO-HOO!

We are so excited! After finding out, PuddleMama immediately asked me take her to the bookstore to buy the "pregnancy bible" and we came home and told PuddleDoggy, who promptly celebrated by eating a rawhide he's been hiding around the house for weeks.

I have so much to write about now, especially since I've been holding back on this blog in order to temper expectations and prevent jinx's. For now, just know that we both can't wipe the smiles of our face (well, except for a little emotional roller-coaster'ing in PuddleMama, but the PB (pregnancy bible) tells us this is completely normal.....)

Time for bed... And yes, the George Costanza line "My boys can swim!" *has* been running through my head since PuddleMama told me.