We all need a massage.

Another seven days has passed and now I'm 23 weeks pregnant. For the record, I'm still not sure on some days that I'm ready to have another child. Nonetheless, there is a baby boy in there who is 11 inches long and weighs just over a pound. That is, apparently, as much as a large mango weighs, but I'm pretty sure that he doesn't look like a mango.

They say that The Boy can feel my movements now and encourage dancing around. At the moment, I just feel like taking a nap, but thanks for the suggestion. Apparently, the baby's skin is transparent and reddish. That sounds rather odd to me. As long as he's pink when he comes out, then it's fine. Or he could be a kitty when he comes out. Blood vessels in his lungs are developing to prepare him for breathing, but his lungs won't be fully developed for many more months. So keep cookin', Kid!

Hehehe... Lila just crawled up into our massage chair and is pushing buttons on the remote, trying to turn it on. The funny part is that she doesn't want to lean back and have the massagers touch her. She wants to turn on the heat so that the massagers turn red, and then watch them move around under the fabric. Sometimes Cordy gets up in the chair, which I can only assume means that she wants a massage. However, she always leaves as soon as I turn it on. Odd.