Or both, I suppose. Can't start teaching the importance of safety too soon, eh?
I'm showing a lot more than I expected to at this point, although I'm sure as the months go on, Darrick and I will look back at this and laugh, because I will be gigantenormohuge, and this will look like minor bloating in comparison. At the rate I'm going, by the end of the second trimester, I should be able to set my tummy with four place settings for dinner. I'll have to drive from the backseat. By the end of the third, foliage will wither and die in my shadow. I may need to incorporate my belly as a city. Nations will ask me to stop blocking the view of their satellites (or will attempt to hire me for the same reason).
I'll suddenly be stricken with an obviously uncharacteristic tendency to exaggerate and a compulsive need to tell bad belly jokes. Did you hear the one about my belly, the priest, and the rabbi on a deserted island . . . ?
Friday, August 04, 2006
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
It's got a beat, but you can't dance to it.
Well, you can--if you're some kind of spaz.
We heard the heartbeat this morning at our doctor visit, and it's crazy fast, only further confirming our suspicion that we are spawning a future superhero, apparently with the faster-than-lightning superpower package (complete with superhuman running capabilities as well as sleight-of-hand, speed-reading, and auctioneering skills). Have a listen for yourself here.
The doctor used a device that looked suspiciously like an old transistor radio jury-rigged to a Fisher Price microphone painted a glossy black. Perhaps the other doctors got to the supply cabinet first this morning. At least there was no visible duct tape. It was all very bizarre, like listening for messages from outer space, our own little SETI project.
I am at the tail end of my 13th week, the last of the first trimester. I'm already showing a little tummy, a bit early for a first-time pregnancy, or so I hear. I'll post pictures as soon as I find the cord for connecting the camera to the computer.
I'm feeling pretty good these days, after weeks of extreme fatigue. How extreme? Well, here's a little excerpt from my dishwashing routine:
Wash a plate.
Rest.
Wash another plate.
Rest.
Wash three forks.
Rest for longer because that really wiped me out.
"Accidentally" break the rest of the dishes, buy paper products, sleep for the next ten hours.
Our new dishwasher arrived yesterday.
We heard the heartbeat this morning at our doctor visit, and it's crazy fast, only further confirming our suspicion that we are spawning a future superhero, apparently with the faster-than-lightning superpower package (complete with superhuman running capabilities as well as sleight-of-hand, speed-reading, and auctioneering skills). Have a listen for yourself here.
The doctor used a device that looked suspiciously like an old transistor radio jury-rigged to a Fisher Price microphone painted a glossy black. Perhaps the other doctors got to the supply cabinet first this morning. At least there was no visible duct tape. It was all very bizarre, like listening for messages from outer space, our own little SETI project.
I am at the tail end of my 13th week, the last of the first trimester. I'm already showing a little tummy, a bit early for a first-time pregnancy, or so I hear. I'll post pictures as soon as I find the cord for connecting the camera to the computer.
I'm feeling pretty good these days, after weeks of extreme fatigue. How extreme? Well, here's a little excerpt from my dishwashing routine:
Wash a plate.
Rest.
Wash another plate.
Rest.
Wash three forks.
Rest for longer because that really wiped me out.
"Accidentally" break the rest of the dishes, buy paper products, sleep for the next ten hours.
Our new dishwasher arrived yesterday.
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