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This is a photo from Tracy & Keithís wedding. This is my belly squeezed into my poodle-like navy dress. And this is Nate smooching said belly.

So Nate got upset with my entry yesterday. He thought I made him sound shallow with my grateful-that-Iím-not-a-fatty comment. He got all quiet and sunk into his leather chair after reading it.

Now I feel bad.

Maybe Iím getting more compliments because he thinks I look especially cute in pants with giant elastic bands. Or maybe he simply feels more compelled to make his sweet thoughts heard. Either way, I like it.

I have to say, Nateís a pretty darn good father-to-be. And not just because of the upswing of compliments. He lets me hog all of the pillows in the living room. He tears up at sonograms. He has opinions (lots) about strollers, bouncy seats, even hooded bath towels. When we see someone we havenít seen in like two weeks, he grabs my belly and proudly asks: ďHave you seen this?Ē He blabs baby name ideas to anyone whoíll stop and listen, then dismisses them if they donít like our picks. And no matter how scared shitless he is about everything, his pure excitement is always there.

I love that. Believe you me, I need that.
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