Little Match-Blog

Cause it's like that Hans Christian Anderson Story? With the little girl selling matches in the cold? And no one cares about her? And she freezes to death and you're like "Thanks, Mr. Anderson. Now I want to shoot myself."? Oh how my blog has been neglected...

Sweet Georgia Brown, where does the time get to? I looked up and lo, I had missed entire seasons in keeping up with this thang. And that's kind of unforgivable, not because my adoring public gives a tin pooh about it, but because I hope to use this as a kind of record for myself and my family. And it's not like things haven't been happening in this ole' life of mine.

First and foremost, I am SO pregnant. I am relatively sure that the only people reading this are my nears and dears and so that is no revelation. I am about 5 months in with a boy, who's gorgeous face I saw for myself on a crazy 3d ultrasound today (why some places call it 4d, I'll never know. Until I'm wearing special glasses that make me feel like I'm in my own womb, I think 3d will suffice).

I am so happy to have the last piece of our little family puzzle falling into place. Cause, yeah kids, I think we're done after this. I love babies, especially my babies, but economically I think 2 will fit just right.

The naming process this time has been a beotch. With Gwendolyn I hit upon her name before I even knew what flavor we were getting and it just stuck. With this little chap we've run the gauntlet and still not 100% on any one name. And no, please don't phone in your suggestions. I promise you that unless you've spent the last 3 years in Kenya working with indigenous peoples we have heard the name you are thinking of and have either put it on the short list or discarded it outright. We have three baby-name books open on our coffee table as I write this, let alone the countless name websites, so yeah, the problem is not lack of choices. Gavin gives the final stamp on this one (as I got final say on Gwendy), and he is taking his job very seriously. With a boy it just seems harder- finding that name that's masculine but not macho, classic but not over-used, current but God forbid trendy. But we'll hit it. And this kid will know his parents sweated bullets over his handle, and so hopefully forgive us if he hates it.

And then there's our Gwen. God, she is simply wonderful. Just so smart and cheerful and funny and the cream in our coffee. I mean, yeah, there are days when she's a whiny ball of toddler-funk, but then she cracks up, or comes up with some crazy new word, or decides her favorite song is "Lookin' Out My Back Door" by CCR, and it's more than worth the work. Just the other night we were reading a book about a bunny named Nicholas. I pointed to him and asked, "What's his name, Gwendy?". "Ma-bo-gus!". Close enough for me.

So yeah, life is good. I miss being Pretty Pregnant Princess this time around- I did not appreciate how sweet it was just to kick back after work and absorb the silence and I have no such luxury this time around- but there is such a lovely rightness to the completion of our little family.

I am vowing to keep up with this blog, at the very least so that the man-cub doesn't end up in therapy bitching about how Mom was so much more into her pregnancy the first time round. That's me, alway prepared. Like a girl scout, sans cookies. Mmmmm.....now I want cookies.
Ok, pictures!

Zis Paint! It eez NO GOOD!

Hello, my name is Gavin. And I shovel this walkway, A LOT.

Get that camera out of my face, or so help me God...

Belly pics soon, I promise!