22 weeks! August is the size of a pomegranate.
Yesterday, Daddy & I went out for a Sunday date. Church, lunch, & downtown shopping. You came along, like you do, and people noticed! Three to be exact! Three! :) I was told congratulations, which I still feel sorta funny accepting, but it does put this sorta dopey smile on my face that I try but can’t control. And that suits me just fine.
Speaking of that dopey smile, here’s a little story where that smile came for a visit and every time I think of this moment, that smile likes to linger.
This weekend, Daddy & I did some spring cleaning. Well, mostly your Daddy cleaned while I kept him company. You’ll learn he’s really good like that. Well, I left him so I could put away clothes and when I returned, there he was, sitting on the floor, folding your little clothes, straightening your books, & lining up your toys. There he was, in all his Daddy glory. So serious and so happy. Looking so very much like he’s got this fatherhood thing in the bag. Then he noticed me, all teary-eyed & dopey-smiled, in the doorway and I made my way to sit next to him, rested my head on his shoulder, as he read me one of your books.
And in that moment, I wanted to tell him congratulations. Because I believe he deserves it much more than I do.
Because Little A, I may be carrying you, but he, well, he is carrying us.
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