Nora gets on her wee little soapbox.

The wha-?

Okay, we all have an announcement to make over here- there's gonna be another little[r] Schoeny. We're having a baby! In early October, as a matter of fact. (And considering that I'm the only member of this family without a birthday in the month of October, I'm either really special or just a specific type of carrier. Because- without getting too detailed- this was not the planned month. Guess we weren't in charge of this one.)

But I gotta say, on this luckiest of days- I'm acknowledging that I certainly have luck. And also that "luck" can look a goodly bit like food poisoning.

I'm already ten plus weeks in- and had intended to keep it hush for at least another week- but as people are already approaching me on the street with congrats(!) and questions, it was time to 'fess up.

Here's what you've missed.

I've been really, really sick. So I wouldn't exactly say you've "missed" much.

The "morning" sickness began at around four and a half weeks. (My- that's early, I can hear some of you saying. Yup!) I was actually pretty jubilant about it at first. The nurses who took my blood at the first appointment asked if I was having any symptoms. Tons- I told them. But it's great! Because that means it's working! They exchanged a look and wished me well.

I actually lost a few pounds, which, at any other time in my feminine career would have been awesome- but is generally frowned upon when one is attempting to sustain an actual life. Two, really. I suppose I need food for me, too. (But if I remember anything at all about the second trimester besides crying about missing beds and wedged couches in hallways...it's that I'm a pretty good weight-gainer when I wanna be. And I hear my Mexican neighborhood makes a pretty decent taco.)

I had been subsiding on grapefruits, cantaloupes, Triscuits, and lemonade. And that is all. (No scurvy here!) Thanks to two stellar shipments of citrus from my aunt's Arizona lemon and grapefruit trees, my diet needed never change.

Whatever. I'm so utterly stoked about this kid.

And not to worry. This week I've seemed to have turned a culinary corner. It began with a late night confession to Peej that cheese popcorn might be a good idea. Like Smartfood, he wondered? No- less real. More orange. He offered to melt some cheese on top of popcorn, a suggestion that sent me careening to the loo.

Shortly thereafter, a bag of orange popcorn appeared. And it was good.

This paved the way for the truly bizarre suggestion that maybe I wanted liverwurst and mustard. (No you don't, said P.J. You will throw up.) He offered to run out to Jewel and get me some. I demurred, because I didn't want to be a bother. Also, I feared throwing up.

The next morning, during our regularly scheduled grocery run, I begged P.J. to pick up some liverwurst. He did, and eyed me warily as I ATE THREE SANDWICHES. And you know what? It was terrific.

Since then, I've had no less than one liverwurst sandwich a day. Sometimes more. Most recently, I ate it directly from the package with a knife. I feel [like I should have more] shame. Liverwurst, you're my liverbest.

Also, did you know that liverwurst has forty percent of your daily iron?

We've gleefully been re-reading our favorite pregnancy books. Not the stupid ones that tell you how to play with your kid or how many ways your child might die, but superbly cool illustrated play by plays of what the baby looks like each week. And what they're rather busy with at the moment. (Week 10- fingernails and spinal nerves. Keep going, kiddo!!)

My nanny kiddos are stoked beyond belief at the addition of a new ready-made pal. Lily has begun a campaign to name the baby either a) Nora or b) Lillian. This is regardless of whether or not it's a girl.

And I'm pretty sure Nora will be thrilled, once she realizes why Mommy's belly is getting mammoth and the deal with all of these floppy-headed floor naps. Any time she sees a baby- actual or in a picture- she joyfully screams at the top of her lungs: BABY! That, and her penchant for body-slamming her dolls to the floor (with LOVE), clearly shows some stellar Big Sister potential.

Trust me, I should know.