So my center of gravity has officially shifted now at 20 weeks. That does not help matters since I already fit the stereotype of a clumsy dancer perfectly. Today was another cold, wet day. So I was in a hurry to get in the house after being out all morning. No sooner than I closed the front door behind me did I get swept off my feet - and no, not in that romantic way but in the painfully physical way. Did I forget to mention that I was holding my 16 month old? Yes, that makes things more interesting now, doesn't it? Oh, and tile, too. We have tile. So I dropped my baby on the tile floor! I completely twisted my ankle and scraped my elbow trying to prevent it, but to no avail. Adrenaline pumping, I immediately scooped him up off the floor and held him close, hoping somehow I'd imagined the whole thing. But the wailing began and I knew he was hurt. All I could do was rock him and cry with him and of course tell him how sorry I was (as well as curse the weather, the tile, my lightfootedness...) He's okay, the poor thing. Not a bump that I can see, which is a miracle, because I saw and heard the thud in slow motion. I'm certain I will relive it in my sleep tonight, because I feel like an unfit mother. I mean that both figuratively and literally. There is the mere fact that I let go of my child and there is the burgeoning belly that is taking over my body. I have to regain control somehow! I began exercising again this week after a mandatory break (because of some bleeding I was having). Hopefully that will help me feel more grounded and get my feet more firmly planted! I'm not so sure it will stave my intense craving for sugar, though. Control the number of pounds I gain though, perhaps. Perhaps.