This week, after Ben got back from his exercise and finally had a night of good, solid sleep (we slept in until 8 a.m. on Wednesday!), I approached him with bad news...

Me: "So, I was waiting to talk about this until you got done with your exercise. Um, this weekend..."

Ben: (looking at me suspiciously)

Me: "I want you to clean your army/athletic wardrobe and move it to the office to make room in the future baby room."

Ben: grumble...

Me: "I was going to do it while you were gone but I figured you would get mad at me if I was moving around heavy furniture."

Ben: "Yeah, you're right. Okay."

So, this weekend was a working weekend at the Morrison house. Ben reorganized, did manly furniture moving things, grunted, sweated, put together an el cheapo crib from Ikea (hey, it's sturdy, and babies don't care). And I put all my clothes that aren't going to fit me ever again (or until sometime after Otis arrives), and refilled my drawers and closet with the few maternity items I've bought. Sigh. This isn't to say that the maternity stuff is bad, I just have limited choices now and my choices will become even more limited as I become unable to button my low rise jeans or make my extra long tees fit over my belly.

All in all, Saturday felt very productive. You can see the fruits of Ben's labor, a crib where his big wardrobe used to be:


And a picture of me to show what I've been working on for the past 24 weeks:


Ben has been trying valiantly to grow a belly to keep up with mine, but I think he's losing:

His ice cream and rice krispie treat diet has nothing on me and Otis.