Merry Christmas

In cleaning out Andy's closet, I came across a Santa hat that I believe was Bjorn's growing up. My mother-in-law found a box a couple of years ago when she was moving full of 40-year-old baby stuff and, being the pack rat that I am, I have been trying to salvage whatever of it I can, including this hat. Andy put it on a few nights ago and proceeded to dance around the room. I have some hi-larious video to upload later when Blogger speeds up a bit of him dancing to his own song as he prances around the room. More blackmail material it's so cute.

What I like about this picture is he's naked except for his diaper, his Santa hat and all the spaghetti sauce all over his face (it was right after dinner and just before bath time). Well, that and he's just got a great smile that makes me smile looking at it.

BGB seems to be cooking along nicely. I swear she can kick me in the hip and in the boob at the same time, making me think she's 20 inches and 10 pounds already. The movement is cool and always reassuring, but there are some times (like when I'm trying to get comfortable in bed) that I want her to pipe down in there. I'm also really started to feel like a whale, having trouble getting in and out of bed, and dropping stuff constantly. It scares me to think that I have 10-12 more weeks of this when I'll just get bigger and more uncomfortable.

At this point, it's sort of a toss up. I know having a newborn is going to be tough, especially with an active (and often cranky) three-year-old in tow. But the backaches, muscle aches, leg cramps, weird dreams, water retention, clumsiness and enormous belly are all making me anxious to get to the next phase.