Boo. Lost Post

Boo.  I couldn't sleep the other night at 4 AM and wrote up a blog post about being 20 weeks pregnant.  I thought it seemed quite beautiful and well thought out for something I wrote at 4 AM.  But then my iPad did something funny and my fat finger bumped something I didn't want it to bump and POOF. Gone forever.

Who knows, maybe it even held the answer for world peace?

But probably not, as I pretty much only covered being 20 weeks pregnant with triplets.

So, the beginnings of that post are saved somewhere; maybe I will come back to those thoughts.

Alas, neither this post nor the last had a belly pic.  But I will force Fred to take one tomorrow.  Of course then I will be 21 weeks and not 20.

At 19 weeks 3 days I measured a whopping 28 weeks. And thus, despite my babes being no where near big enough to survive outside my womb, I say farewell to the good trimester  (emotionally and physically, if not actually) and hello to whatever remains of this pregnancy - I hope a solid 15-16 more weeks! Only time will tell, but I can already see how things will progressively get harder as my belly grows bigger and bigger.

This past week I finally succumbed and bought a Prenatal Cradle to support my belly. A trip to see the fireworks by myself with Mary Charlotte left me really sore the following day, so I knew I could not put it off any longer.  It finally came today, and I have to say, even given a quiet rainy day around the house, wow do I feel like a new  woman! I feel like I can MOVE again without serious belly aches. I look forward to chasing my toddler around for a little while longer.

Speaking of my toddler.  Sweet Frederick.  His life right now consists of potty training.  So far, he doesn't tell me when he needs to go, but pees quite well on demand. I'm not sure if these two things cancel each other out, but I'll be happy with it for now.  He does go without prompting while out and about and everyone else needs to take a trip to the loo.In fact, I think he really enjoys his new independence in these cases.

At Miller Outdoor Theater last week he would not let  me enter the stall with him and insisted on going by himself.  I watched under the locked door as he removed his shoes, then his pants, and finally his underwear and left them on the floor. Yes, the nasty, very public bathroom floor, and lifted his little body up on the potty.  (Normally I'm a stickler for covering public seats with toilet paper, so I found this extra disturbing.) When he'd finished his business, he managed to put his clothes and shoes back on, although all backwards, and unlock the stall door.  I promptly washed him thoroughly.

I wonder if his streak of "I do it!" will continue once the triplets arrive?