Note To Self

NEVER, EVER even think "Well, I'm having a good morning, I don't feel sick, I don't feel dizzy. Wow! This is going to be a good day!" unless you want to have every pregnancy symptom in the book. You deserve it.

Okay, so anyway, I am due January 7, 2006. I haven't mentioned that yet. Most likely, my doctor will induce in late December after Christmas. Or maybe that's just my hope since I would like the extra tax credit. My husband assures me that either way, the baby is screwed and will always get joint Christmas/birthday presents. His birthday is December 4th, and he swears that if you were to put a money value on what he gets for Christmas and what he gets for his birthday and add it all together it would not equal what his brother gets or what his sister gets. He's a middle child, and what can I say, I told him to get over it.

For my husband, Fall/Winter babies are not unusual. Most of his family was born in that time period. In my family, we have 90% of our birthdays between March and June. There are a few oddballs, but most are in that time period, so a winter baby is unusual in my family.

In other news tonight, I picked my daughter up from daycare yesterday where she was busy tormenting another little boy in her class. There is about a 2 foot gap between the table they sit at for lunch (once it's pushed up against the wall after lunch, that is) and a toyshelf. So, picture if you will, a table on one side, a wall, and a toyshelf on the other. It's a small space. The classroom has a standing mirror (safety glass, don't worry). The teacher had obviously put it in this space so that the kids wouldn't play with it and would leave it alone. Cute theory, but she should know that makes it all the more irresistable to toddlers. So stuck between the wall and mirror is poor little Andrew. There's barely enough room for him. Who's on the other side of the mirror cackling like the wicked witch of the west giggling? You guessed it. My little angel. Every time little Andrew would peek his head around, my daughter would say, "Boo!" I'd like to think they were playing. But after about 30 seconds, I think Andrew really wanted out, and my sweet little girl wouldn't let him leave. When another little girl, Alex, came to play, too, my daughter turned around and told her very sternly, "No! (with the finger point and everything)" At this point Andrew escaped crawled under the table, and my daughter saw me standing at the door.

They took class pictures a couple of weeks ago. Thank goodness my daughter's hair was washed. Her teacher put it up in a ponytail for her. Better her than me, that child screams and will not cooperate when I want to make her hair look cute. Anyway, the proof of the picture was back, and I could choose to order it if I wished. Well, my daughter is well-dressed, clean, and has a go-to-hell-I-can't-believe-they-are-making-me-sit-here-and-take-this-picture look on her face. Very stubborn looking. So I ordered a print. It was only $6.50 for a 5x7 (I was not paying $10.00 for the 8x10). I can't wait to add it to the baby book.