It's a ...?

the big one is a leg, it's the little bump.

I'll tell you what it is. It's another freakin boy! That was pretty much my reaction, well the G-rated version of my reaction. I may have cussed a little more and ranted and raved for a little bit. Ok I still am. I don't want a boy. I want a girl. Can't they cut something off, poke it in, or something? And just like with Tristan's ultrasound, I didn't have to be told what it was. I could see it plan as day. It's an outie, not an innie. So it seems when Tristan was saying "I know it's a girl because I'm smart," well he's not so smart about these things. But he's ok with it. He thinks because it's a boy, he'll like spider-man too. So now Tristan wants to buy the baby spider-man things. We have to take the pink outfit Tristan bought the baby back and get a blue one. I told Tristan this and he said "why, he can wear my old clothes." Well we still have to take the pink outfit back. Anyway, I'm slowly coming to terms with the whole "it's a boy" thing. I went to babies-r-us Saturday (do not go there on a weekend) and registered. Tristan helped, he used the laser gun to shoot everything we wanted. I let him pick some of the not so important things. I picked the good stuff like diaper pail and bath tub. I still have so much stuff from Tristan that I don't really need much and didn't need to register, but I wanted the free stuff.

This little boy is a mover and shaker in my belly. But not very cooperative. He is facing me so I haven't seen his face and the doctor can't get a good shot of everything. Just means I get another ultrasound.

For those of you who know how I drive, you'll think this is funny. Tristan has taken an odd interest in racing. He's watched the Cars movie and that's about it until we went to visit my parents and my Dad watched the Daytona 500. But Tristan wants to go to a race. And he thinks our car needs flames on it because flames make you go faster and our car is a race car. Our car is a light blue Dodge Grand Caravan. I tried to explain that flames on a mini-van would not look good. But he just keeps up with "but it's a race car". Why is our car a race car? Because I drive fast and pass people, Tristan's favorite thing. Talk about a back seat driver. He'll sit in his seat yelling "pass them, pass them, go faster!" And maybe that's why I'm freakishly anal about what car seats I buy. I bought the baby a new carrier car seat after much research and comparing. I always research the car seats and buy the best crash test one, or at least the top one that fits and I like.