25 weeks and counting

I've been terrible at documenting this pregnancy. Life is busy. And, I have to admit that, even though I'm not feeling overly anxious about something going terribly wrong with this pregnancy, I think I tend to keep myself focused on other things to purposely keep my mind from going there. I worry a little about how I'll explain to Baby Girl why I don't have weekly photos of my pregnancy with her (although, I didn't do that with Hugh, either) and why I didn't record more of my feelings during these nine months. So, I'm going to make more of an effort to document more of this, for her sake.

This last Sunday I reached the 25 week mark. To celebrate, my tummy decided to reject everything I'd eaten that day. Throwing up at 25 weeks is not fun. I'm really hoping that night marked the final rendezvous with the dreaded porcelain bowl.

I don't know how much the boys understand what's about to happen, but they pat my tummy and say "baby", as well as understanding that "baby" also refers to a tiny human being. (I should also clarify that they also pat their own tummies and say "baby"... so clearly there's a little confusion still. haha.) Last week, while I was busy making dinner, Hugh came up to me with a ball, trying to stuff it under his shirt and saying "help." So, I helped get that shirt nice and stretched out enough to fit the ball in there. He giggled and then trotted off with his back slightly arched back. Then, of course, Ben had to get in on the fun and brought his ball over with the same request. Funny boys!

I almost wasn't going to include this very unflattering photo of me with the boys, but since when have I ever claimed to live a glamorous life?! This is the real deal, on most days, I tell ya. Tired, pregnant, make-up-less me, just trying to make and keep a happy home. And, actually, I'm totally cool with that.

Here's a more traditional shot of the baby bump, taken two days ago... so roughly at 25 weeks and 3 days. I find it so awkward trying to figure out how to stand for these photos. Do I wrap my arms around my belly? Do I hold it from underneath? Should I put my arms down to the side? Smile at the camera? Look off in the distance? Maybe that's the real reason behind not taking these photos every single week. Too much pressure for this analytical head of mine.

And, I'll leave you with one of my most favorite photos of the boys right now. Sitting on our front porch, Ben wearing Grandpa's beret and Hugh wearing Grandma's newsies cap. Here's the deal, though. This photo is not posed in the least. They are always wearing these hats - as soon as my parents walk through the door, the boys plead/demand to wear their hats. This photo captures so much of their personalities... I love it!!