Magic 20

Today is officially the halfway mark! 20 Weeks! Assuming we deliver on time...I'm really hoping I cook this little one more like my steak and not my garlic bread. So I'm going to do a halfway post...not because everyone wants to hear MORE about me and baby (I know everyone has to be exhausted with it by now) but because it will postpone attacking my to do list that includes dishes and laundry. Those types of chores are really bad for pregnant women right? I'm sure my doctor mentioned that. 20 Weeks feels great though...I'm only sick when I lack food or sleep and I actually have energy again. (Still working on finding ambition) I can still run quite a bit, although my speed is considerably slower and I go less often it still feels good. Kelly told me the other day, while pinching my latest growth of love handles, "I like your pregnancy hips" I'm thinking he was lucky to catch me in a stable mood. He informed me that he's allowed to say that. Ok love...as long as you found it in the rule book I'll let it slide. I'm convinced that I'm not like most women who carry their babies "high" or "low"...I'm carrying mine on my thighs. Definitely. That said, I'm graduating to maternity clothes....spandex waist never sounded so appealing. I've sworn I will never make fun of stretch pants again! I've also discovered that I have a tendency to buy clothes with horizontal stripes...as you can imagine...this isn't the greatest fashion statement for a person in this condition. So I drug Kelly to the maternity store and I wishlisted a nice variety of clothes to buy- Minus the stripes, plus the spandex.
I'm absolutely dying inside with my impatience to meet this little guy. Every day I just want to hold him and squeeze him. (Poor Ted's eyes are about the pop out! No wonder he can never wait for Kelly to get home.) I sat in the closet the other day and just looked at the things we've bought for him so far, carseat pads, burp rags, the cutest little stuffed elephant you ever saw, and I was about to cry, it's like I miss him not being able to hold him. So I just feel him move any chance I get. I never get sick of it. I'm sure I'll be redacting that statement once I can't get feet out of my ribs and a fist off my bladder, but for now it amazes me every time.