Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached a verdict.

Two legs! Two arms! Two kidneys! We are so blessed.


Maybe we should stop referring to our daughter as 'Floyd' now...

any suggestions?

Family anxiety party

Floyd's big photo shoot day is here.

Paddy is nervous. I am nervous. Floyd and Lupe seem fine, but if they had more advanced cerebral cortex development, they'd be nervous, too.

I can't help it. I'm envisioning every tiny, sick little baby I've ever cared for in the NICU or read about in medical ethics case studies. There are wonderful things about being a medical social worker. Listening to every heart breaking story told in staff meeting by tearful coworkers who need to decompress within the safe boundaries of HIPAA laws is not wonderful.

There is no reason for me to be scared. So far, we have been gifted a perfectly calm, uneventful pregnancy, with no hint of cause for concern. Blessed are we.

I'm still nervous.

Alice summed it up best:

Please bless two arms, two legs, two kidneys, four chambers. Gooey innards inside where they are supposed to be, and everything else is gravy.

Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming

If flopping around in utero is a sign of pleasure, then it seems Floyd likes the cool creaminess of mint chip ice cream.

Unfortunately, Floyd seems to enjoy the acidic bubbliness of heartburn even more.

I looked out the window and what did I see?

Yep. Our dog is pretty much a genius.

Anyone know where we can find fruit snack flavored dog bones?

Your civic duty

A poll! A poll!

(Ever notice how "poll" sounds really weird when you say it over and over again? So does "fork". Fork, fork, fork, fork...)

Anywho, be a responsible American and help Floyd decide whether he or she wants to be a he or she by voting in the poll at the top right. Our first photo op happens May 29th, and Floyd needs to have made a firm decision before then.

Just kidding. I know how this gender thing works. And also, Floyd doesn't care what ya'll think anway.

I'm rambling.

Baby Floyd: boy version vs. Baby Floyd: girl version poll is up. Vote.

Something's growing in my tummy

This pregnancy thing feels weird. Don't get me wrong-- it's nice. But it's weird.

You'd think I'd never grown a baby before or something.

Tomato Extravaganza 2009, Volume 1

Padre, Floyd, and I faced this summer with but a simple goal in mind: single-handedly replace my mother's entire depleted stock of canned tomato products and create my own supply in one season.

On Saturday, Tomato Extravaganza 2009 was born.

For your viewing pleasure, a photo journey with captions.

Exhibit A: Genesis

Exhibit B- Padre tilled the earth.
Exhibit C: Padre raked the earth

Exhibit D: Lest you think I did nothing, the spoils of my shopping trip.

Exhibit E: Lupe, on the other hand, really did nothing.

Exhibits F & G: Together, we planted the earth,

which thrilled Lupe to pieces.

Exhibit H: Now, the earth looks like this.

Thirty-three (33) tomato plants darn near qualifies the three of us (Lupe doesn't count) as bona fide farmers.

E-I-E-I-O.

Progress to follow.

Floyd at 15 weeks

A couple of weeks ago, but you get the idea.

Lady at church: "Oh honey, you don't look pregnant! You look fatter than you did before, but not pregnant."

Thanks. Makes a girl feel dainty.

Happy things

I can safely say that in my childhood version of Happily Ever After, the resident pro in the fishing section of Sportsman's Warehouse was never written into the script. Sometimes things don't happen the way I imagined.

Maybe it's just the pregnancy heartburn.

Just sayin', this made my heart swell until I thought I couldn't breathe.

I love you, Mo.