GAYS MILLS - If you’ve paid attention you may have caught a few subtle hints from my column. But in case you missed it, and haven’t seen me waddling around in person, the Schendel-Dremsa’s are expecting.

To say the least, it has been kind of a weird year for us. So when I found out I was pregnant in March, I just wasn’t in the mood to make a big fuss. I kind of just carried on with life, adding (prenatal vitamins and green leafy vegetables) and subtracting a few elements (Pabst and feta cheese). As time went on though, it became increasingly difficult to hide. 

Fast forward several months and we are only about six weeks away from our big day. And now, there is certainly no writing off this look to an overly fond relationship with pizza and my sofa.

After experiencing this pregnancy business with a (rather lively) toddler at home, I have to applaud women who manage to have more than two kids–especially, those who go for the whole two-under-two situations. I have no idea how they do it?!

My pregnancy thus far has been pretty uneventful. However, I just don’t remember being this exhausted with Thatcher. At first, I thought there was something wrong with me. It seems that 7 a.m. never seemed like a more horrible time. It took me an exceptionally long time to realize, oh yeah, when I was pregnant with Thatcher, it was just me. I didn’t have to get up with a rambunctious, independent two year old and try to wrestle him into blue jeans.

However, I managed to survive. Yes, it was with far less naps than I had hoped for.

This time around, I decided I did not want to wait to find out the gender of the baby. I found out there is a service, which for $80 and a few drops of your blood, can tell you the gender at nine weeks. Apparently, in other countries this blood test business is the norm and covered by insurance. However, since I didn’t have that luxury and also have been blessed with the in ability to wait, I forked over the cash with fervor.

The process for that test would be painstaking for me, for some reason. Diabetics and other people who have to poke their finger with a lancet would most certainly agree with my mom’s favorite sentiment about me–I’m a huge weenie.

First, you have to ensure that once the box is removed from its protective sleeve that no males touch it, AT ALL. Kind of hard with a grabby little boy and a partner who doesn’t always listen when you say ‘don’t touch that.’ But alas, I managed to keep their grubby paws off of it until the moment arrived where I could safely spend 15 minutes scrubbing my hands clean; also, with no males in my presence. The company provides you with two lancets in case you have a moment of panic, like I did. After some sweating and light-headedness, I was able to milk the measly four drops of blood from my finger into the tiny test tube and sent it on its way.

One week later, we found out that we would be adding another boy to the brood.

Thatcher seems as though he will be quite the delightful big brother. 

We have talked to him a lot about the situation since we found out we were expecting. Luckily, he also has some idea about babies from daycare, his baby cousin Noah, and our friend’s young children. I’m happy to report that he seems to be simply delighted by babies.

He has developed an adorable toddler habit as well to go along with discussing his “baby brudder.”

He will insist, to no end, that his funny little half in half out belly button is his brother. Most of the time, discussing it is all fun and games, but a few times, he has become rather passionate when people tell him that the baby is actually in my belly. Once even resorting to squeals and tears to express “NO MY BRUDDER!” while clenching his belly button flap.

The other night, while he was laying in bed (also rubbing his brother belly button) he had a bit of a heart-to-heart chat with me.

I’ve tried to prepare him (the best you can prepare a two year old) that he will be sharing mama and dah with the baby. Telling him that the baby will need us to hold it and it will cry sometimes.

 When I asked Thatcher what he will do when the baby cries, he told me “say ‘awwwww’ and nuggle him like a baby.”

I hope his good attitude toward his brother remains, especially when he comes out looking a lot more like a baby and less like a belly button.