Wolvertown

It’s official: Baby Boy is already a hoss. Jenn had a checkup last Monday, her 35th week. She was measuring 37 weeks. I have no idea how they size such things up, but I believe it intuitively. After all, I can’t remember the last time I heard her say, “I really want some steak,” and she’s said it twice just in the last week. I’m also hearing things like, “I can’t believe I ate the whole thing,” which is another good indication that Baby Boy is lovin’ life in there. We’ll know a lot more after this Friday, when she has an ultrasound.

Lindsay spent part of the weekend with her grandparents, being lavished with new clothes, shoes, and sweaters that make her look like Truly Scrumptious. Yeah, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is the movie-du-jour around here. It’s OK, with the major downside being it’s 2.5 hours. I had a vague recollection of watching it with a babysitter as a kid and being scared of the Children Catcher, so the flashback opportunity is a nice bonus.

Last week at school she took her first real spill on the playground, but seemed pretty unfazed by it. Apparently she was playing ponies with one of her friends, turned around to see who was chasing her, and bit the mulch, as it were. Had to happen sometime, I guess.