This week, Andrew and I both have to-do lists that reach past the ceiling. He has finals. I have a self-set goal of finishing two weddings before Friday cause I have way too many backlogged and it's eating up all my memory. And Max? He has a to-do list that includes quitting naps (what?!), eating whole pb&j's, shooting hoops on his plastic basketball goal, screaming "no!" when we ask him anything, choosing flip flops over spankin' new red sneakers, and releasing the dog from his kennel when I'm cleaning. You know, normal toddler boy stuff.
As for the newest, yet-to-be-born Chandler, the other day I realized that, if this baby is born as early as Max, then I am over half way done. I've hit that point where I think my stomach is flat, but then I look in a mirror and it looks like I've shoved a child-sized basketball under my shirt. I've spent most of this pregnancy telling Andrew that this baby is going to be quieter than Max because s/he doesn't kick as much. But! I think I've been comparing little flutters to the movements I felt with Max at the end of pregnancy. Cause Baby C.? S/he kicks early in the morning, during walks, at lunch, in the afternoon, when I sneeze, when I cook dinner, when I eat dinner, and at bedtime, too. We have another little squirmer and, for that, I am so, so thankful.
I've always kinda liked them, but I am just loving our family a little extra nowadays... especially since Andrew promised me a whoppin' cup of frozen yogurt Thursday night after his fifty page paper is turned in.