Greetings from Stroopie. He started kicking as I was sitting here staring at the blank screen as if to say, "Let's go, Mom. You don't have all day." No time for writer's block when you have a kid--or a fetus--apparently.

I read today that my uteris has graduated from soccer ball to basketball. I didn't realize there was much of a size difference between those balls, and I'm not convinced I'm WNBA material yet, from the number of people who tell me I "don't look pregnant," and I "certainly couldn't be entering my 3rd trimester." On the other hand, no one noticed my haircut yesterday in church, so I'm a little curious what people see when they look at me. I was dreading all the helpful comments from people who would try to make me feel better about my middle-aged-woman-wannabe-80s-rockstar haircut, but it was a nonissue...which didn't make me feel better.

Here's a pic taken 2 days ago, which shows both belly and new hair cut. I don't fully understand why beauticians like to blowdry my hair straight and then curl it, because I'm pretty sure that when I leave it alone it comes out just as curly, but that has very little to do with the size of my belly, so I'll move on.

This one was taken this afternoon. Maybe it's just my posture that affects my ABS ("apparent belly size").