Yoga, anyone?

So Trisha asked for pictures. . . Pictures of what, I ask? The dogs, perhaps? No. I'm fairly certain she's asking for pictures of me. Pictures of my stomach, more specifically, I guess. Hmm. Yeah, no. Soon, I promise. This is because right now my stomach looks like I had one beer to many, not that there's a baby in there. I am convinced. Nothing you say will make me beieve otherwise. (I do admit that two people independently commented that I looked like I was starting to "show" yesterday.)

SO. Starting to feel better and have slightly more energy. Emphasis on slightly. I did get the green light to start a yoga class on Thursday evening, as I am officially in the 2nd trimester (woo hoo!). Those of you who know me with any depth at all can only imagine that a non-pregnant Courtney is more than a bit awkward in yoga, well let me tell you that nothing has improved in the coordination arena with pregnancy. The oh-so-wonderful instructor, Mary Elizabeth, kept saying this is because of pregnancy. . . this is hard because you are pregnant. . . Finally, I had to break down and just say, "Pregnancy is only my excuse. This is a life-long affliction." She smiled awkwardly and with a hint of a giggle looked at my friend, Tonya, for confirmation. Yep. You know that Tonya looked down and smiled grimly while nodding. Sad, but true. However, I felt so good after all the stretching that I signed up for six classes!

That was a highlight of the week. Another was spending time with Jackson and an almost 3 month old Abigail. She has gotten so big! On a slightly down note, I have maybe finally realized my own limits . . . although this is no guarantee. I had a jam-packed weekend last week and Monday felt like caca--the price paid for too much fun.

On a totally different note, please send up some prayers and thoughts of healing for my friend, Ryan, who along with another Camp Carter staff member was burned on Thursday evening and is still recovering in Parkland. Hopefully, he will be home soon and recovering quickly.