Yikes!  Six weeks since my last post.  Hopefully I haven’t worried any of you with my long absence.  Things are going great!  And don’t let the title fool you.  This post has nothing to do with prenatal flexibility exercises and everything to do with the fact that I can feel my belly stretching out more and more each day.  The past week brought my first experience with actually feeling a bit cumbersome, which freaks me out a little since I know that I still have so much growing to do in the next two and half months.  It’s already getting more difficult to get comfortable in bed, despite the fact that dear Marc has so graciously shared our bed with a four foot body pillow for the past three months.  Anymore, my night’s sleep looks like a study in how many times a person can flip from side to side before (a) getting up to pee, or (b) getting up to eat large amounts of Tums.  Last night, I think I may have strained a muscle from simply rolling over in bed.  I keep telling myself, though, that I asked — no, in fact, begged — for this.

The Bean has also stepped up the game in the activity department as of late.  In fact, the constant acrobatics — I’ve decided the baby will be either a synchronized swimmer, a Karate master, or a river dancer — provide hours of belly-gazing fun.  Marc and I sit in bed at night and watch my belly move around.  The other night, as we watched an elbow poke out or my entire belly roll like a wave as the Bean practiced backflips, Marc decided that he would put his ear to my tummy.  While I wondered what in the world he thought he might hear (perhaps Jazzercise music?), Bean gave Marc a swift kick to the head.  Alas, already stubborn…just like mom.

So truly we’re just plugging along.  The nursery is painted, the crib and dresser are in their places.  After a fiasco with the armoire not fitting up the stairwell (darn old houses), we’ve decided to install an extra hanging rod in the closet and move a six-cubby bookshelf into the nursery from the den to fill with canvas totes.  It’s all coming together.  Friday is the infamous glucose tolerance test, and then it’s on to every-two-week appointments. 

Just 80 more days until my due date!  (And yes, to all of you veteran parents out there…I know, I know, they come on their own time.)  For now, we’ll fill the days pondering hair or no hair? (I was bald ’til 3 years, Marc had a full head of hair)…blonde or brown?…chubby or average? (I was a 10lb 1oz!, Marc was 7lb even)…on-time or late/early? (I was nearly three weeks late, Marc was 4 days early).  It’s all so fun to think about!