Woke up to a kicking baby who made me smile.
Picked up a breakfast burrito and a horchata, because, you know, I'm healthy. Or something.
Got a smog check on my car, an errand that I've been meaning to run.
Ate my breakfast while waiting, and read my book.
Visited Conrad at work, gave him the rest of my burrito and horchata.
Kissed him on the mouth.
Had my 21 week appointment.
Got told by the nurse that I have a lot of sugar in my, um, sample, and did I have a lot of sugar this morning?
Felt sufficiently scolded as she warned me about gestational diabetes.
Vowed to never have horchata in the morning again.
Heard his little heart beat wiggle away from the monitor again and again, which frustrated my doctor and delighted me.
Met Conrad at noon after he dropped his truck off for some big fixes we've been putting off.
Drove home happily because we had the whole afternoon together before he had to go to night work.
Conrad jumped in bed for a nap.
I ate two cookies (more sugar, I know) and a mug of milk and joined him for a two-hour snooze fest.
Woke up refreshed.
Leave the house to go grocery shopping together.
Realize that neither of us grabbed the keys.
Try to break into the house, and realize that we are sufficiently guarded for break-ins, and it is nearly impossible.
Wait twenty minutes for a locksmith.
Conrad lit up the barbeque and started cleaning it while we waited.
Finally get let in to our own house for a grand fee of $55.
Promptly leave again, with the keys, and go to the market.
Buy healthy food for grilling, because seeing the BBQ all fired up gave me a hankering for grilled food.
Come home and make kabobs together.
Eat the delicious food.
Clean the kitchen together.
Snuggle on the couch and watch an episode of Psych.
And now, my beloved has gone to work the night shift, and I'm here in my coziest of clothes, with a belly full of good food and a sleeping baby.
And I've been forbidden from watching any episodes while Conrad is out, so I sit here, typing this memoir of our wonderful day.