Half Baked.

This post should have come on Saturday, but since this weekend was dedicated to unprecedented laziness and sloth, here it is on Tuesday. We're officially half way! Twenty weeks marks the halfway point of pregnancy (though as my doctor pointed out at my last appointment, while we know when the due date is, the baby when come whenever it pleases). Baby Frog is the length of a banana. Or a butternut squash. Yeah, I know. This is the last week that baby's estimated length is measured from "crown to rump" - next week, he'll be measured from head to toe. So don't freak out if baby grows a substantial amount next week. He's precocious and talented and all that, but really its just a quirk of prenatal estimates.

Sooner or later, I should get Morgan to take some pictures so that people can actually see me pregnant. I'm pushing out of the "I'm not fat, I'm pregnant" phase and into the, "yep, that's my belly" phase. I realized this afternoon that if I don't pay attention, I start walking like Charlie Chaplin. Not a good look.

I don't think I've mentioned it here before, but I have to take a second to mention how absolutely amazing Morgan is. Anyone who knows Pace knows how persnickety he is and how dedicated he is to me. It ends up being easier for me to do most Pace-related things simply because he prefers it coming from me. Morgan will take him out in the backyard, and Pace will simply stand there staring at him. But on Tuesday nights, my yoga night, Morgan has been feeding and walking Pace before I get home.* I cannot tell you what a relief it is to come home and not have to walk to the dog or administer his stinky food. Its a little thing, but I am ridiculously grateful. Thanks, sweetie.

* Of course, he's amazing for a dozen other reasons as well. This is just tonight's.