When Daddy Laughs

Call me Mother of the Year.

To the amusement of most of my cohorts, I'm finally showing that yes, thank you, I'm pregnant. It's become a bit more obvious because every time I sit down and relax, one can see my stomach moving with the baby. Kinda like Alien on speed. My guys are fascinated by this, which makes my day. Peanut's still a bit confused, but we're working on that.

Last night, Boomer and I were hanging out lamenting over the Cubs/Sox rainout, and the baby started getting its groove on. This invariably happens when I'm feeling like sleep is a good idea. Mommy doesn't need sleep, I need to party! Payback will be swift in the teenage years. So Boomer, being an excited daddy, reaches for my belly.

Boomer: "Holy crap! Your stomach is vibrating!"
Me: "Yeah, this is pretty normal."
Boomer: "I sired the Tasmanian Devil!"
Me: "Duh. How else do you explain Peanut?"
Boomer: Uncontrollable laughter. I'm amazed Peanut slept through it.

At this point, I have no clue if it's a boy or a girl. And I still don't care. Based on the movement, I'd say boy. Based on gestational size, girl. Flip a coin, kids.

In the meantime, Boy Wonder is requiring a bike ride. It's finally decent! And there was much rejoicing.

Call me Mother of the Year.