The unbearable cuteness of being @ 20 weeks

I'm trying to hold it together now that we have hit 20 weeks, because that big '2' looming up front there reminds me that 2-6 is coming all too fast, and that's halfway, getting closer to Mallory's birthday than her birth day; where has it all gone?

Today we were lucky to have Gramma and Grampa take Liam for a couple hours so Mal and I could go to baby playgroup. Up until today, I had only taken her ONCE, for the baby massage class when she was about 7 weeks old. Liam is specifically in daycare on Tuesdays so that Mal and I can do the playgroup thing. But she naps well in the afternoons, so all summer long, Tuesdays were my chance to catch up on my schoolwork; and then my course ended right when Cindy was going on vacation. I was starting to feel guilty, especially after talking to a friend this week who was telling me about a friend of hers, one with two kids, the older of whom is a genius on account of all the one-on-one attention they got as an infant, the other of whom is lagging because, well, Older Sibling continues to steal the show. That got me thinking and pushed me to make the babysitting arrangements. And I'm glad I did, because Mallory clearly enjoyed it, and it really assuaged my guilt to be able to spend time alone with her and practise her sitting and her rolling uninterrupted for a couple of hours straight.