WARNING: Hit the parental protection button for this post now. It may get R-rated. It's a free country.
The belly keeps getting bigger kids and I often feel the need to protect it. Whether it be consciously or subconsciously, I protect it. I often find myself walking around with my hand on it just in case something or someone pops out of a closet screaming BOO! and I jump back Mary Katherine Gallagher-style into a wall and the baby gets all shaken-not-stirred in there. I still have a whopping 18 weeks and some odd days of growing to do and by that time I am sure Paul will be slapping a WIDE LOAD banner across my ass.
"Stand back folks, this one makes wide turns!"
"What's that? I just dropped something? Funny, I can't see it. Can you point me in the general direction it fell? Oh, and can you pick it up for me?"
"Eeeeeee my sciatic! Give me ten minutes, I need to roll over."
And it isn't just a fear of someone or something hitting or poking the belly (and don't give me the whole "Relax, he's well protected" speech either, because as he gets bigger, he gets less protection), sometimes when I, or Paul, or whoever says something like, "Fuckity fuck fuck, etc." I feel the need to cover the belly up so he can't hear. Funny huh? Well, I am a funny gal. I do make him listen to Wu Tang (shh don't tell Paul) and he loves Ushers new jam.
It really is funny though that I felt so big at 10 weeks. Then WHOA! 16 weeks. Then came 20. In all seriousness, I do love the belly. I really, really do.
Congrats to Kristin and Lee! Ty Robert made his appearance yesterday-ish in Italy!! We can't wait to meet him!