We took Lucy to my 28-week doctor's appointment, where she got to hold the heart monitor and see baby on the ultrasound screen. As we exclaimed, "Look, Lucy, what do you think?! It's the baby!!!" she was nonplussed. She said, "It looks like a sea turtle."
Which it kind of does: a brilliant, charming, gorgeous sea turtle who's destined to test well.
So in case you can't make out the little genius, this is a closeup of the face, turned to the side, hand under the chin.
Lu's dance recital was Sunday and it was pretty damn cute. She wasn't the best dancer from a technical standpoint, but she certainly had the most stage presence, as evidenced by the photo above. See the whole gallery here.
Lately, just when I am inclined to get bent out of shape about some minor (or major) irritation, it's like there's someone poking me, reassuring me, "Hey man, don't freak out, we're cool." The poke is coming from MY UTERUS. Where there is a person living.
The sensation never stops being a weird, delightful reminder that it's what's on the inside that counts.
On several occasions in the past couple of weeks, Lucy has expressed concern that I am wearing my pajamas out in the world. You know, because many of the maternity clothes I wear on the weekends or evenings are knit, stretchy and pajama-like. And also, I have been so tired I have taken to falling asleep in my clothes. Oh, and there may have been a couple of trips to the grocery store in actual pajamas.
Lucy lost her first tooth last week. She is elated; she has shown every person she has encountered since. This morning, she told me she dreamed that she had lost all her teeth and had her grown-up teeth. The thought of this made me so sad.
In no time, she will have that awkward kid mouth, full of holes and too-big teeth, a gappy pitstop on the way to a full-fledged grown-up face. Where is the time going (someone cue "Sunrise, Sunset" in the background, please)? While I am focused on this new, milestone gap in her mouth, I need to remind myself about where the time goes – it slips through all the other gaps between milestones.
I regularly read this blog called The Happiness Project. The writer of the blog created a really sweet, corny short movie that sums up how I feel.
We had a great time as always. Here's proof:
I promise to write an actual blog entry soon, but in the meantime, here are some fast facts:
• Lucy has a very, very loose tooth and she would love to show it to you. Ew.
• We went to the beach this weekend and Lucy hates the sand, the seaweed and the salt. But she LOVES eating Doritos, swimming in the nearby pool and bossing people around, all of which can be done more cheaply at home, but oh well, we had fun.
• Lemon is 26 weeks cooked and as big as a rutabaga.
• Lucy's new favorite thing to eat is chicken drumsticks.
...that one of my primary feasibility tests for a baby name is shouting it across the house?
This is the cutest I am going to be for a long, long time. The moment between "Is she chubby or is she pregnant?" and "Oh my god, she looks like she might burst, somebody get her a chair."
I am wearing a darling, borrowed maternity dress (thanks, Jennie) with a shirred band of elastic around the middle that announces I am pregnant. I realize this because all day long, people have been saying, "Hey, look at you, you're pregnant!" I am in the Cute Phase. If I'm remembering correctly, the Cute Phase lasted about three weeks last time around, and I suspect the increasing heat will cost me at least one of those this time. So I really hope I see you soon.
Last night, Nini and Carter came over for dinner. After dinner, Carter was a little fussy trying to go to sleep and Lucy said, "Can Carter and Nini go home now? That screaming is hurting my ears. He's too screamy. It's DREADFUL."
Before I could chide her for being rude, I had to laugh. That, dreadful? "Dreadful," as in filled with dread, the emotion that overtakes you every evening at 7 in anticipation of the two straight hours of screaming between 10 and midnight. Dreadful is seeing that first flash on the baby monitor: the beast is stirring. Dreadful is 2 a.m., feeling like no one else in the world is awake except you and the beast.
I know dreadful, kiddo, and it was YOU.
