I knew from the minute I saw our little one aka "Baby Bean" on the on the black and white screen of the ultrasound that we had a character on our hands. Not only was he or she (still don't know for sure, but I'm leaning toward "he") moving around like a hopeful on "SoYou Think You Can Dance".
When the u/s technician put more pressure on my womb to give us a better view the baby did something that will forever crack me up. He put his left hand and forearm over his face as if to say, "No Pictures! No Pictures!"
Well, the other day I did something that probably wasn't the smartest thing I could have done. I was having a vain moment and I managed to squeeze and I do mean squeeze myself into my Lucky Brand button up jeans- my "fat jeans" if you will. Well, to my great surprise they fit again- I wanted to assume it was just some excess water weight and bloat that made them unwearable the week before. (See- It Had to Happen Sooner or Later.) So I'm thinking I'm looking cute in my jeans and but when I came out to the living room to resume my favorite spot on the sofa that illusion was quickly shattered. I sat down, could hardly breathe and could barely get back up without pushing myself off the arm of the sofa. I was a bit miffed at myself for not using the sense God gave me and the baby, well let's just say Baby Bean was pissed! That little sucker, who just started moving where I can feel it, kicked me for a good 15 minutes afterward. Can't say I blame him (or her), but I think it's safe to say I do not have a passive docile child on my hands. Hmm, wonder where that came from?
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