We have enough interest that the Peep Show will go on! It will be smaller than previous years, but that is okay. :)
All-O-ver, Ol-i-vore . . . we're learning that Oliver's name has some fun mispronunciations.
Also, ask him what is name is and this is what you'll hear: "My name is Oli . . . Oli . . . Oliv . . . Oli . . . I don't know."
Here I am at SFO. Again. What should have been a 40 minute layover has turned into a 5 hour layover with merely a possibility of getting on the red-eye at 10:30. Flying standby. And if I don't get on the standby flight . . . they tell me my next shot at JFK isn't for 24 hours. Yeah. So let's hope that doesn't happen. And if I don't get on standby, well, there's got to be another way home.
S: Oliver, Is Mom a child of God?
O: Yes!
S: No, Mom is a grown up!
The one night -- ever -- when Micah and I get to bed at 10:00 and could, feasibly, get 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep, Simon wakes up crying inexplicably at midnight and can't go back to sleep, Oliver falls out of bed, and we're all out a couple of hours of sleep. Clearly we need to never try to go to to bed early. It's the only way to get a good night's sleep around here.
I’ve had some requests for a belly picture, so here it is:
My current stats as of today:
Gestational age: 30 weeks
Fundal height: 31 cm (up two cms from two weeks ago)
Weight: Well within the recommended limits . . . or should be by the time I deliver
Blood pressure: lower than last check-up
Dr. Shimizu says everything looks perfect. I don’t feel uncomfortable at all, and I still have room to grow into my maternity pants. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the rest of the pregnancy and labor and delivery will be as good to me as it has been so far. I will say that I only sleep well about half the time, and I’m wondering if maybe the little guy isn’t getting a little bit tired of being in his confined space. Sometimes it feels like he is trying to break down the walls of his prison. It makes for great entertainment on a slow weekday night, but can get downright annoying when I’m trying to fall asleep.
And in keeping with the dream theme: I had a dream recently that he was born bald (or nearly so), like I was. They presented him to me as if he were some sort of delicious food–on a silver platter with a fancy silver cover–but I wasn’t fooled. I didn’t think he was done (because he didn’t have any hair) and I wanted them to put him back until he was finished. When I woke up I realized that I do kind of hope he has hair, but after reading this article from the NYTimes, I guess I should prepare myself for a bald baby.
I don’t think this picture looks much different than your old one, except that your hair is down.
Where’s that baby hiding??
p.s. my sister, Gina, had heartburn during her pregnancies and had bald babies both times. So, I think you still have a chance…
Maybe the t-shirt just hides it better than some of my other clothes.
Oh, I didn’t think it was an insult.
I’d rather be small as long as possible, but I do think I am bigger than I look in this picture. In some of the other pictures we’ve taken where I am wearing a more fitted shirt I look bigger. At least, I think I do.