Wow, 17 weeks today. Time sure flies when you are accidently pregnant and miserable.
Actually, I am feeling less miserable as the days go on. Perhaps my hormones are starting to regulate themselves, or I've come to terms with #4 a bit more, or maybe just getting rid of my sinus infection with some much-needed antibiotics has evened out my temper somewhat. I can't believe how moody I am. I'm surprised I have any friends, and that my relatives are still talking to me!
I'm not feeling my little one very much yet. I think I've had a couple of pokes, but I have an anterior placenta that is creating a comfy pillow for the baby, but buffering any potential kicks. It's a bit of a bummer, but they'll soon come thick and fast and I'll be wishing for the bubba to fall asleep so I can get a rest from the internal tummy soccer.
On the outside, the boys are doing well. OK, so Austin has started pooing his pants again, and bit a child at preschool the other day. That I didn't see coming. Riordan was a biter, but Bowen was the only one who was on the receiving end. Austin is a very angry little boy lately, and it appears he is taking out his frustrations orally. Riordan grew out of it, but I can't have my little man biting random kids at school. Being the third of three boys can't be easy, there is so much testosterone swirling around the air I can see it sometimes, but it's no excuse for munching on people. It's hard for me to reconcile the person he is at preschool with the little boy who still insists on his boobie before bed.