Here we are at seven and a half (approximately) months, and I am definitely looking pregnant.
(Sorry for the blurriness. Blame Eric.)
Apparently I look pregnant enough now that strangers don't hesitate to identify me as such. I went to Joann yesterday to get fabric to make L.E.O.'s quilt and "bumper," and the clerk looked at my selections and said, "Is this a quilt for the new little one?" Later, I went to Andersons for fruit and cheese and a basil plant (since none of the seeds I planted came up) and slipped on a raspberry in the produce section and fell flat on the floor. There was this horrified collective gasp by the people around me; a couple of people rushed to help me up, and a woman walked up to say "Are you here with anyone? Did you slip, or did you faint?" (I fell on my side, and L.E.O. didn't seem to be hurt. In fact she seemed to have slept through the entire thing. Before long she was bouncing around as usual. Apparently she thinks the way to get out of me is by punching a hole through, like a chick in an egg.)