25 Weeks

I tell ya, if this was my first pregnancy, it might have been my ONLY one.

We had a yard sale yesterday. It was very successful, by the way. I woke up at 5:30am to my mind going a mile a minute about what I needed to get done for the yard sale, as well as what I needed to get done for the upcoming events in our lives. I.E. Brandon's birthday, Spencer's birthday and baptism and the cookout following it.

We spent most of the day outside in the HOT HOT sun. One of the guys who stopped by to peruse our junk told Brandon about a classic car show that night in downtown Belton. Those of you who know Brandon well, know of his love of classic cars. Sadly for his, we don't share this love. He tries to convince me that such and such car is SO cool, or SO good looking. I usually stick my nose up to them. So. Not. Impressed.

But I digress.

So, here is it, 6pm and we're walking up and down Main St. I'm hot, tired, and very achy. Not to mention, very bored. In rolls three reallly old roadster type convertibles. One of the boys say, "Look, that's going to be Mom and Dad when they're old!" I literally start tearing up right then and there.

WHAT?????

Why in the world would I ever tear up over that???? You see, I'm not an emotional person. It's not in my nature to cry. Much less cry about something so trivial and silly! I am very grateful at this point to be wearing sunglasses. Very grateful. Cause for whatever reason, when and if I do cry, I HATE crying in front of people. Hate it.

So we keep walking and I notice a grown man walking towards us. His sopping wet crotch area drew my attention right away. Then I looked at the rest of him to try and figure out why a grown man was able to walk around in broad daylight having so obviously wet himself. My only assumption is that perhaps he is mentally challenged. He certainly wasn't old enough to struggle with incontinence due to age and he wasn't drunk. He cared about his appearance because his shirt was neatly tucked in and he had a belt on.

Talk. About. Flood. Gates. Opening.

I'm a bit misty eyed just recalling it. My heart hurt for him. But again, not something to weep about.

Normally.

I gave up on normal months ago. Can I tell you how awkward it is to live in someone else's mind? I adore how special being pregnant makes me feel, but I surly can't wait until I feel normal again.

I do attribute yesterday's bout with emotional paranormal was perhaps brought on by exhaustion. I typically get some sort of nap in everyday, and I don't normally rise at 5:30am. And I don't spend all day in the sun, dealing with people and crazy kids. I was very worn out. I'm totally blaming it on that. Totally.

Here is the latest picture.

21 weeks:



25 weeks: