Well, my baby is 24.9 pounds. That is - the child who is actually a toddler, who will always be a baby to me. Jude had an ear infection the other day and we took him to the doctor. He got weighed on the big boy scale and the scale read 24.9 pounds. I looked at him with a stern look at said "once you reach 25 - I stop carrying you". Of course I was kidding - I love holding my son.
But I guess I should get on with this... this post is actually about the other baby - the fetus, if you will.
When I was pregnant with Jude, I had pregnancy books stacked by my bed. I would read them each night before sleeping - occasionally re-reading the same week-by-week details of my baby's progress just so I could keep up with what all was going on. But now, now that I have Jude, we have children's books stacked by the bed. It's all I can do to get through a couple of children's books as my eye lids are begging me to close them (and Jude is begging me to read more) let alone read up on what baby's been up to in the belly.
A couple week ago though, I decided to check out online just how big the baby was. I vaguely remember talk of an apple seed and decided that an apple-seed sized baby just wasn't interesting enough to read about (sorry liam/lana for my lack of enthusiasm) and I just stopped trying to keep up. Then the other night I had a difficult time falling asleep. So, I hopped online to see what was going on in there and found out that my apple seed had somehow grown to plum-sized proportions in what seemed like a day. A plum, I couldn't help thinking, is a pretty significant sized fruit. It's not exactly a watermelon or anything - but in terms of something that is squished inside of something that at one point was the size of my fist, that's pretty monumental.
So, my baby is 24.9 pounds... and my other baby is a plum.
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