Pregnancy. Oh so much to say... so little time.
I feel this little guy kicking a lot these days. Sometimes I know he is sleeping. Sometimes I know he is wide awake and throwing himself a party in there.
My clothes don't fit me anymore. The few things I owned with an elastic waist band are all I can wear these days. Good thing I am going to Portland soon and can go maternity shopping with my mom and sister.
Last night we went to a friends house to watch The Men Tell All (you know, the Bachelorette?) Conor and I love to hate it and hate to love it. Anyway, my 9 month pregnant friend was having contractions 10 minutes apart when we got to her house. Towards the end of the show she quietly admitted that they were 3 minutes apart. She went to the hospital and had her baby 45 minutes later. She was in labor the whole time but just couldn't miss The Men Tell All. That was the best part of my weekend.
I don't know why I put Conor and myself through the hell of taking these tummy shots. We both hate doing it. The photo on the left is more or less the image I am going for. The photo on the right is what ends up happening 99.9% of the time because Conor is constantly looking at me with this look that says, "Are you freaking kidding me?" I guess I am just not one of those bloggers whose husband follows her around with a camera and takes awesome pictures of her everyday in a cute new outfit. It's really too bad. Neither one of us can keep a straight face for more than 2 seconds.