22 weeks!

Holy moses. Is it just me or are these Thursdays coming faster and faster? We have a lot of work to do over at Casa de Erwin to prepare for Super. We had a lot riding on a productive weekend, which was wiped out by the Great Erwin Plague of 2011. Here's hoping Rick and I are fully recovered so we can really make some progress this weekend.

As for Super's progress, she is now almost a foot long and still hovering around three quarters of a pound. One of my aps has given up the veggie comparison, while the other picked up the torch just in time to compare her size to a spaghetti squash. Getting a bit obscure, no? She is getting more acive and tooth buds have formed under the gums. Dear Lord, please give this child a full set of chompers. Mommy and Daddy have tight annual vacation budgets that do not account for orthodontia. And in your daily dose of too much information, her ovaries are starting to produce eggs.

In somewhat related news, I had my first stranger approach me and ask when the baby was due. Of course, there was an 80-something old man in Miami that pointed at my stomach when we walked into his pizza place and exclaimed "Pizza for TWO!", but for some reason that doesn't count. Old people say crazy things. This was someone around my age that was sitting next to me at an "Excelling as a Manager or Supervisor" training class I was sent to yesterday. I think my boss is trying to tell me something, though I am not sure what. I was thrilled that I finally looked pregnant enough for people to finally comment and was content with the knowledge that this pregnancy was finally legit....Until I got home and looked at myself in the mirror. I had thrown on a grey sweater over a shirt and pants on my way out the door that morning without really assessing my appearance. When I did finally see what I looked like, the expression of shock on the girl's face when I told her I was 5.5 months pregnant made a bit more sense. While cozy and comfy, this sweater was doing me no favors and I appeared to be 250 weeks pregnant. Oh well. I say it still counts.

I will leave you with this photo I snapped in the ladies' bathroom at the Holiday Inn in Arnold. If you are ever feeling blue about having to attend a boss-mandated Supervisor Training, be thankful you are not the person eating butterfingers in the public bathroom stall. It can always be worse. It could have been an almond joy wrapper.