If I wasn't married, this photo would be the perfect chick magnet.
Julie had her gestational diabetes test today, involving guzzling a gooey orange concoction and getting blood drawn an hour later. She also had to get an upper-booty shot due to my blood type's incompatibility with her blood type. I am probably the one to blame, but unfortunately you can't give the father that shot. Too bad, you know? I would've loved to help.
Julie also got a weight update. "I weigh X pounds!" she said, and I searched her face for some clue as to how I should respond.
I went with "Well, that's still less than I weigh," which she pondered before ultimately allowing me to live.
But the cool thing is that the little dude who lives inside Julie weighs over two pounds now. It's time that we start to appreciate sleep again...while it lasts.
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