The first rule...

Scene:  The three of us are sitting on the floor in Grace's room playing before bed.

Grace:  Let's play fight pillow!

Steve:  Uhh, fight pillow?

Me:  The first rule of fight pillow...

Grace, running over with two pillows:  Yea, you sit there and I throw these pillows at you!

Over the weekend, Grace was trying to sit on my lap to read a book.  She turned around and sort of pushed on my belly, saying "Baby Brother, move!"  And so it begins.

In her defense, I should post a picture of my belly.  It is quite large. As a friend said over the weekend "Kate, you are all belly!"  And a colleague last week, "Wow, you're really getting big!" (the latter is a woman with two grown children, and I thanked her for pointing it out, wondering when she forgot that you never say something like that to a pregnant woman).   Strangers can tell I'm having a boy.  One woman said "boys you carry like a little ball, girls carry more sloppy."  Well, at least I'm not sloppy this time around.  

Had an ultrasound last week, and baby boy is measuring quite large for gestational age, almost two weeks large.  On the one hand this makes me feel a little better about how enormous I am.  On the other, it just amplifies my terror at how he's going to get out.  That part is coming up relatively soon so it's becoming increasingly clear that I'm going to have to go through with it.

Drifting far afield from the unmentionable fight pillow, here.  So I will wrap things up.  Happy Birthday, Grandpa!  And, Happy Belated Birthday, Pop/Dad!