Ready to get on the baby train?

I'm pretty certain I've convinced myself that I'm pregnant multiple times and given into fake pregnancy cravings of really gross foods that I've fooled myself into believing I'm craving, because I'm certain I'm pregnant.... But am not.

Disclaimer: I'm NOT currently "with" child.... 

But I did however crave a spinach and Swiss cheese omelet recently. I was a few days "late" and because of these two hard facts, my husband and I excitedly skipped like a bunch of retards to the nearest Walmart last weekend to buy us an E.P.T. to solidify my suspicions. 

 We proudly sat our test on the check out counter, purchased it, and sped home to tinkle on it. 

It was negative. We were a little bummed. We got all excited driving to Walmart talking about our unborn children 

(using their already chosen names and talking about their future professions....)

 And saying things like 

"When the baby comes, I hope you can take off more than a day of work this time! 

Wouldn't that be great!"

Anyway. It was negative. We're fine with that. We are in no "hurry". 

But I'm getting the BUG. Bad too. I look at this little face:

And think, You would have been a really cute girl AND GET THE BABY BUG!

So we've been throwing around times and dates and "planning our future." 

(Right, like that ever happens)

I asked Dustin if he was ready to give Conrad a brother/sister tonight. Well first, I sat him down to show him the gooiest of gooey babies that ever lived. The sweetest of sweets. The squishiest of squishies.
(Our son when he was a gooey little baby boy)

He's got the itch. (But he wont admit it) He's got it bad. I know he does. We both do. 

He's just trying to play it cool and not seem so baby-desperate about the whole situation. 

We've got so many transitions going on in our lives right now, we're just enjoying our little turd and looking forward to what the future holds. But isn't he stinking cute?!
  I want to punch myself, he's so cute. I want to squeeze that little fat roll under his arm pit! I want to chew on some fat little 6 month old thighs and kiss some ear lobes. 

I am certifiably baby crazy. 

I've had to hold myself back from rubbing and squeal-talking to every adorable pregnant belly I see. 

I'm pretty certain I've convinced myself that I'm pregnant multiple times and given into fake pregnancy cravings of really gross foods that I've fooled myself into believing I'm craving, 

because I'm certain I'm pregnant.... 

Exhibit A: 

All of these items went into my omelet the other night. It was amazing for the first 30 seconds until i realized just how gross it actually was, (and continued to finish the rest until I had the worlds worst heart burn and the unspeakable ass-scorching quirts for the remainder of the evening.) Totally gross and embarrassing, especially when you try and describe this scenario to your mother in law who has in fact 

NEVER 

FARTED 

in front of my father in law 

IN 

20 YEARS.

(OK, help me out here, who does that. Who DOESN'T fart in front of their spouse in 20 years?!)

So at this point, I feel like a complete heathen-slob of a daughter in law.... 

I do however, fart around my husband. I'm just saying.... I'll be a heathen. I don't care.

He's not a baby anymore. There almost isn't any "baby" left in him. He's big now.

I miss those fat-squishy thighs. They're gone and now I'm just sad and baby-less.

Is Dustin ready to get on the baby train?!

We'll see if he gets on or not.

(I mean, hypothetically speaking y'all. Don't get crazy)

PS, I really can't believe my mother in law has never farted in front of her husband. 
I'm flabbergasted. I don't even know what to say. I'm so impressed. 
Sucking in your farts and getting up to leave the room to fart for 20 years is mind boggling. 
wow.