Ah, my lovely readers, thank you for your patience. It's been a wild and woolly November, and I'm sorry for the breaks in posts. Today's weather is too dreary to take Dante for a W-A-L-K (I have to spell it lest he know what I'm saying and freak), so as we wait for the bands of rain to move on, I'll fill you in on this month.
Because of Mike's work schedule, I was never able to take him out on a date for his birthday, which made me very sad. Maybe I can do it this weekend, once we eat all the leftovers from Thanksgiving. I'm ready for a big slab of good red meat.
Peachick's initials were on the petit fours and napkins, and I have to admit that seeing them made me tear up a little. It made her more real, more of a person, even though Mike is still reserving the right to change her name once we meet her if necessary.
And how IS our little peachick? She's just kicking along. At 33 weeks, she's measuring right on track at about 4 pounds and 19 inches even though the general consensus is, "My gosh, you're so TINY!" People honestly do not believe that I'm as pregnant as I really am. Yes, at 8 months I'm still wearing some of my non-maternity clothes, which freaks me out a little. But Dr. K says everything is fine and that I just have the bone and body structure to carry an extra few pounds of baby. I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, but if the kid's OK, then I'm happy. I was 9 pounds even at birth, and Mike was 6 pounds 12 ounces, so Dr. K is estimating that she'll be somewhere between those two figures. I'm hoping she takes after her daddy. She seems strong like me but mellow and easygoing like him. I can't help but think that combination will make for a good birth.
He's pretty stoked about his girls.