Update

It is 8:36 p.m. My feet are up on the couch and Walt is lodged in my ribs. I have a back ache, but feel relieved to be in a supine position, finally. I can hear Zola getting settled upstairs, rearranging her menagerie of stuffed animals, getting a drink of water, moving things about. Abe was asleep before I came down and Atticus, after the required 3 lullaby's is hopefully snoozing away. Jon went to get me a chocolate shake and mindless, happy movie. He has scheduled his vasectomy, which makes me want to shout for joy! Pregnancy is not fun at all with three little ones to chase and two very long flights of stairs to climb several times a day. Walt's official due date is Feb. 19. I have a lot to do between now and then and no will to follow through. So be it.

The three living outside my body are doing well. Still a lot of managing with the O.T., but they seem to be responding in a positive way. I've also learned a new trick this week... when they raise their volume, I lower mine. So far it's worked like some weird sort of magic, not that I can maintain it all the time, but I've stopped yelling, "Stop yelling at me!" so much--which is a positive thing.

Lately, as a family we have seen a bald eagle, talked about traveling to Africa, South America and visited the local bird store. We've had several lengthy and detailed discussions about how a child gets into a mama's tummy and how it comes out. (Abe asks very pointed and specific questions, which we try to answer with simple, truthful and direct answers...sometimes this proves difficult.) Everyone is looking forward to Walt's arrival and not one of us really knows how it will alter our current life.

Jon is happy in his job. He bought new basketball shoes and discovered a roast chicken recipe that is unbelievable. It doesn't even taste like chicken, but rather some other, much more moist and flavorful fowl.

We did not sell the house, and probably won't for the time being. We are all making an effort to bloom where we've planted ourselves.