25 weeks

25 weeks marks the end of being able to see my feet while standing. It also marks the end of painting my own toenails, and shortly (I suspect) being able to shave my legs in the shower. Sam has agreed to take over these duties in the near future which should be extremely entertaining. I've already had him bending over to get things for me that are near the floor. It's pretty sweet.

I have nicknamed this boy Kicky. He seriously kicks all. day. long. Strongly. Which is awesome. I'm curious if he is a particularly active child or if this is normal for all babies? I'm not sure how to tell before having another child. We can see him moving across my stomach now, which is enormously hilarious but only to us, I would imagine.

Speaking of my stomach, ohhhhhh stretch marks. They have arrived. I tried to beat the genetics (thank you, Mom) by slathering pure shea butter on every day like certain bloggers have recommended. I drank tons of water every day, I ate relatively healthily. No dice. I have become reconciled to my fate, with some sadness, but nothing to do but embrace it. Still, I should have believed my doctor when she said there was nothing that can be done to prevent it. Then I wouldn't have gotten my hopes up. Ah well. Sam insists they're cute. We'll see how cute they are when there's not a baby underneath them.