Ack, it’s been so long since I have been here. So much has happened, but at 33 weeks pregnant I am just not prepared to lay it all out. But I have gotten some grief from you, my two readers, so out of guilt, I decided to check in and say hi.

December was as crazy as December tends to be. We traveled to Florida to see Emma’s Poppy and Nonnie a couple of weeks before Christmas. This will be the last time I ever fly with a child. Evah. Ok, yeah I know that is not possible, but if the projectile vomiting that occurred on the first leg of the trip home didn’t do us in, the totally-exhausted-but-can’t-sleep-and-screaming-hysterically-for-the- whole-flight that occurred on the second leg definitely did. From now on whenever I think to myself “how bad can it be?” in relation to flying with a child, I definitely have an answer.

On December 23 (yep my birthday, for those paying attention) I started having pre-term contractions at about 25-26 weeks and ended up in the hospital for the day. They stopped the contractions but put me on modified bedrest till I saw my doctor. Long story short, she kept me on the modified bed rest (or “limited physical activity”) and here I sit, at 33 weeks, watching A Baby Story and wishing Emma’s nap would last a lot longer than it is actually going to. Of course, somehow the bed rest has not translated into more blogging, since I am still working full time from home and am trying to get more rest when I am not working.

The doctor predicts I will deliver at around 36 weeks - which is when Emma decided to join us too - so it could be that we are in the serious final stretch now, which would be really good since I am incredibly uncomfortable and cranky about the whole thing. I love the final result, but man, I am NOT a fan of the whole pregnancy thing.

Just between you and me, I probably have a wee bit more physical activity than the doctors would be 100% comfortable with, but it is REALLY hard to stay sedentary with a 2 year old and so far it has not caused any trouble. I really try though. I promise.

In January we started talking to Emma about her baby brother in a more concrete way and she caught on right away. I wasn’t sure she would be able to grasp the whole concept, since really there are times when the idea of another human growing inside me is a little more than even I can handle, but she seemed to get it immediately. Now she talks about her “baby bruvver” all the time, knows he is in my belly and knows that at some point - maybe soon - he will “come out” or “be born”. Lately she has even started talking about my belly “squeezing” when it is time for him to come out. When she says this she tries to grab a handful of my belly and squeezes to demonstrate what will happen.

A couple of pretty depressing things happened this week (nothing to do with the baby) that we are trying to deal with, but I don’t want to talk about them to be completely honest, so I’m not. Maybe later.

So that is the last two-plus months in a nutshell. As usual, I will work really hard at getting back here more frequently. If I don’t, please feel free to get on my case ok?