Twenty.

Tomorrow afternoon we find out the gender of Baby Stan.  I'm an excited, nervous mess.  And, rightfully so, there is so much to look forward to, and much to fear.  I fear any kind of words that come out of that doctor's mouth that aren't good.  I try to remain positive, and put on an excited face, but I'm just a scared little girl inside.  Hold me up for one more day.  24 hours.  Ok, more like hold me up until January.  Can I fast forward?  I'm sure I would regret that.  Catch 22.

Lots of kicking and moving about is going on.  Frank has been able to feel the boxing on a more frequent basis.  I'm so glad he is able to be a part of it like that.  My belly grows bigger, and hiding Baby Stan from my students and their parents is becoming harder.  I just need to get through tomorrow with a perfect ultrasound, and I think that Friday is the day I come clean.  It will be nice to have this 'cloud' that's been hanging over my head gone.

My mom found a great deal at a garage sale on a never-been-used jogging stroller, so she bought it.  Frank and I went to my parents this past weekend to help set up for a multi-family garage sale we are having this coming weekend.  She gave us the stroller to take home and put away.

Frank placed it, all folded up, in the garage when you first walk out the door to our cars.  This morning when I left, it was a huge smack in the face.

Holy shit, there's a stroller in my garage.  A real one.  For a baby.  Our baby.