36 Weeks of Chub

Today's ultrasound showed, among other things, one fat fist. The doctor was so impressed by the chubbiness that she had to print it out (she does an ultrasound every time we go, but she doesn't normally print the shots).

And this may be the fist we touched.

The other day, Micah was checking out the baby's movements and told me he thought he'd found a hand. When I put my two fingers in the same spot, I agreed and marveled. Then that invisible hand within the womb seemed to grasp at my poking fingers. Entirely cool and entirely creepy at the same time. I'll be thrilled to do that when the baby is part of the bright world, but for now I'll just wait.

Making Much of the Bean

Saturday night, we attended a delightfully tame costume party. Myles went as a surprisingly scary ghost (who knew a white sheet with two holes could actually blend into the scenery so well?) and Cherish as a Ghostbuster. Katie and Caleb were Alice and the Mad Hatter. Amber and Ben were a hunter and deer (her t-shirt featured a target). Cristy, Paul, Hailey, and Cade were the Flinstone four. Then Lauren and Rafe showed up as Brangelina, toting dolls borrowed from the church nursery in their Baby Bjorn and sling; Lauren appropriately skirted her eyes for every photo taken of her. Phenomenal.

Micah and I had several ideas about how to exploit the bean. Lauren and Cherish had suggested pregnant Britney and KFed. My sister suggested the milkman and a (desperate) housewife. We wondered if we could somehow plaster a bun to my belly and call me an oven; Micah could be the baker.

But then we remembered we're nerds. And nerds like to make allusions that they think are funny even if other people might not get the joke. So Micah went to Wolf and Diller, a local costume shop that happens to be going out of business, and bought pilgrim outfits so that we could be Hester Prynne and Arthur Dimmesdale: