Well, I've arrived. I have hit my 6 week mark and you know what that means for me?
The last 6 weeks of pregnancy are my worst and not because I'm sick or in pain or have ever had anything close to threatening bed rest (although how nice would that be in some ways?) I just get so impatient...6 weeks is long and short at the same time so I confuse myself. It's like I start telling myself this baby could come at any moment, but really, no, it's like a month and a half still and yet I feel like I've reached maximum capacity and there's no more room in my abdomen for her to get any bigger. But she will!
Ughhh...and the back fat...can we please talk about that? What is the purpose of the pregnancy back fat under your bra strap? It's all I think about...well that and the rest of the back fat that seems to really reach it's potential at the love handle portion of the back. Hopefully this is where my baby's creamy milk is being processed and will get sucked out of me like lipo as soon as the baby comes out right? I'm going to call it my own little milk factory...that's it's purpose I've just decided.
I'm tempted to become a recluse for these last weeks because I know how annoying I must sound to everyone-complaining is not that attractive. But neither is my back fat or my tricep fat and so I think it's best for me to just hide. So if you're wondering where I am in April...I'm home getting chubbier and whinier by the day.
Okay, moving on. To baseball.
Oh, and here's me getting my hair done by Chase...
But wait, are those skateboards in your hair Ashley?
Why, yes, yes they are.
I am ready for a little more girly-ness in my life.
But look how proud he was.
So they stayed in my hair.
And you can't tell, but Chase took a bath with a dead fish head this morning that he got from Nana and Papa's dinner last night. That darker thing is the fish head floating around in the tub.
We take bath toys to a new level in our family.
I'll try not to complain as much next time...