First second tri check up

I had my (almost) sixteen week appointment today. It was very in and out, no fuss, no muss. Weight, pee, blood pressure, Doppler, ultrasound. Did my final blood draw for the NT scan. The only useful bit was I asked if I would be required to do those pesky NSTs at the end of the pregnancy even if I was having no problems - and the midwife said yes, most likely. Due to my age, of course. This kind of bums me out, considering the expense ($40 a pop) and possibly having to find something to do with B, which will be even more expensive. So I'm back to that odd place of being kind of grateful that we get such extensive care in this country (the rate of ultrasounds and any monitoring in other countries is very low, I've anecdotally noticed), and being resentful of all the hassle and expense which is almost entirely over nothing. No protein in my urine today, hooray! Was there any this early last time...? I seem to remember that being largely a third trimester issue.

I am cooking dinner for potentially eight of my book club gals tomorrow. I'm making this black bean/tortilla casserole that I've made before (it's relatively easy and a sure crowd pleaser, as most things involving tortillas and cheese tend to be), trying my hand at a sweet corn cake as a side, and making my favorite blackberry upside down cake for "afters". The sheer volume of food for that amount of people is mind blowing - how on earth do large families cope? More importantly, how do they pay for it???

B is now in the habit of saying "yeah" and "no" and "ow" indiscriminately - although he seems to grasp that no and ow are for times when he's not happy about something, most of the time I think he just likes how the words feel; the meaning is incidental. I still long for the day when we can actually communicate - although then I guess I have to cope with opinions, such as "you look ugly today." Most friends of mine with older kids tend to glaze over when I say I can't wait for him to talk - "believe me, you can wait," they say, picking dried food off their shirts. 

Thinking about my house being a construction zone for much of October fills me with dread. As does adding to my already considerable debt. But again and again I come back to the fact that B must have his own room, and trying to do this with a new baby in the house would be insane. So, it begins.