So You Think You Can Walk

Amy's been able to walk for a while now. She can even stand up without having to pull up on the furniture, which is a pretty impressive feat on its own. However, she still preferred crawling as a means of locomotion... maybe it was easier? Anyway, we figured that one of these days she'd realize she could walk and she'd just take off. Last night, when the missionaries were over, Amy rose gracefully to her feet and just started toddling all over.

I guess this means she's a toddler now and not a baby anymore. SO not ready for that distinction. (And if you're wondering what I'm motivating her with, it's those Gerber freeze dried yogurt bites... which apparently are so addicting for 1-year-olds that they ought to come with a warning label.)

One year.

That was then, and this is now:




Check out my baby's footwear, huh?! That's pretty typical attire for her. Amy actually prefers to be barefoot but those sneakers are a little more work for her to get off, and she had other things to do... those buttons aren't going to push themselves!

Man, it kills me just a little, that she's (probably) the last baby and she's not going to be a baby for that much longer. I, um, kind of have a thing for babies (as you may have noticed by now). That said, as much as I loved it when Amy was squishy and tiny and wrinkly, she's sure a lot more fun now. Newborns don't blow raspberries or play peek-a-boo during a diaper change or sing along (and conduct!) with the hymns at church (and maybe keep singing after everyone else is done, just because they like the sound of their own voice).

We're actually celebrating on Saturday, because it's easier and because her cousin Miles is coming up for a visit. I'll be sure and get a lot more pictures.

Babies!

Ahhh! Severed head!


My baby is about to turn 1 (sob!) I already had a gift for her that I found at the Massive Toy Blow-out Clearance in January at Walmart (yes, I blogged about it) but ever since I saw the Simplicity baby doll pattern, I really, really wanted to sew Amy a baby. Now that I have gobs of spare time, I decided I could actually tackle it before her birthday. I got all of the pieces cut out on Friday night and by Saturday evening, the bear was finished and the baby was done except for hair. I have to say, I was expecting it to take a lot longer than that! Baby is all done now and ready to go and Amy's day isn't until the 9th.

So, that gave Matt and me both projects to work on over the weekend. I'm just cutting out some extra doll clothes from my scraps to sew up for the girls for Christmas, and Matt continues on the play set. The clubhouse portion went up on Saturday and it smells very cedar-y. (Am I stragne that I love that smell? I have my great-grandmother's cedar chest and I keep my sweaters in there just so that they smell good.) After dinner last night (meatloaf and mashed potatoes; apple pie for dessert; just in case anyone was doubting that we are a family of blue-eyed Midwesterners) he started in on the roof. So, if it's not done this weekend it sure will be next weekend... just in time for the gorgeous spring weather we've been having.

Anyway, I promised babies, plural, in this post and far be it from me to break a promise. The big news around here is my new baby niece Magdalena (Lena for short). Emily's been wanting a girl so I am thrilled for her that she got one this time. Now the balance of grandchildren is even again on my side of the family... three boys, three girls.

I also found out that one of my scrapbooking friends had a little boy... they just brought him home after a bit of time in the NICU. And several of my favorite bloggers are expecting, so it's been fun checking for updates.

Porter's been asking lately when he's going to have a little brother. HA. I've been telling him the same thing I used to tell the kids when I was working and they would ask if I could stay home with them... it's not up to me, it's up to God. We so cannot afford another baby right now, much as I would like one. (It's more the indirect cost than the direct cost... our insurance doesn't cover it, and the insurance that does cover it would cost $700 a month. Umm, no.) We've been praying for over a year that Matt would get a decent job and one of the reasons for that is that I really don't feel like our family is complete yet. I think we still have another little boy waiting (You'd think I would have learned my lesson after Porter, but no.) but unfortunately, a lot of it is contingent on the economy. In the meantime, it's lots of fun hanging out with the kids I do have.

All the same, when garage sale season comes around in a few more months, I think I am going to weed out some of my huge stash of maternity clothes. I didn't like most of my pants anyway.

Ten things you need to know about Amy

at ten months old!



1. She has eight teeth (most of which came in within about a week of each other)

2. She is a world champion of crawling

3. She is finally, sort of, sleeping through the night

4. Daddy feeds her vegetables during dinner

5. Sometimes she sticks her fingers in my mouth while we're nursing

6. Her favorite song is "I Am A Child Of God" and whenever we sing it, she sings along and waves her arms

7. She thinks bath time is great

8. She's a paci-a-holic

9. Her brother and sister can always get a smile out of her

10. We happen to think she's just swell.

Still here...

Not too much exciting going on. I am on call for work this weekend, which sounds way more important than it actually is. Am I performing emergency surgery, maybe rescuing puppies from a burning building? No, I am testing and approving automotive lubricants. Whee.

We're leaving for Texas a week from Monday. And let me tell you, the sudden precipitous drop in gas prices couldn't have been more well-timed. (It bottomed out around $1.75 here. I haven't paid that price since Betsy was a baby. Of course, at the time we thought that was highway robbery.) It's going to save us a couple hundred dollars, since we will be traveling over two thousand miles. Yes, 1100 miles in the car, each way, with three little kids. Hmm, what was I thinking, again?

Amy had a checkup yesterday (would have been her six-month visit, but she's seven months. Oh well). She's only gained a pound and a half since her previous visit two months ago. But now that she's a crazy crawler, I think she's actually burning some calories. Actually, the pediatrician was kind of surprised that Amy's crawling already, and has been for about a month or so. Don't ask me if she crawled earlier or later than her two older siblings because I can't for the life of me remember.

The sweetest treat

Forgot to show this in yesterday's post: a little something I got done on Friday. (Yes, I am addicted to that die cut cardstock; why do you ask?)

Tempus fugit

How quickly does six months go by?

Ask the mother of a six-month-old.

Holy cow, it's fall already?!

Actually, I'm happy that it's autumn because all my favorite shows are back. (At least, the ones that come on before my 9 o'clock bedtime!) NCIS is looking really, really good this year and how much did you love Pushing Daisies? Karen Tyler as a nun!

Here are some cards I made the other day:

I didn't actually make them on World Card Making Day, which was yesterday. (I was busy sewing, and listening to General Conference on the baby monitor.) But, as someone who's never been that into card-making I actually found them rather fun. I mean, I have a ton of scrapbook supplies that will probably never get used up otherwise, and cards are pretty much instant gratification.

I've been working on a dress for Betsy, with long sleeves for fall. I have a wonderful new machine with a zipper foot, and guess what? I still stink at zippers. (I used invisible thread for the topstitching... is that cheating? It's still crooked but a lot less noticeable.) I think I need to learn how to do an invisible zip before I attempt Betsy's flower girl dress for next year.

Matt's mom went back to Utah at the end of September and my sister Emily came up for the final week of my regular sitter's maternity leave. The kids have been enjoying their cousin Gavin, although I think it's safe to say he's been enjoying them a little bit less. And now that he can walk, Gav's all about exploring the new place... he really, really likes my kitchen cabinets! Last weekend we went to a free showing of The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything at the IMAX theater... and the fancy schmancy new mall where it's located was having some kind of grand opening, so there were balloons and free cookies and the like. AND a cartoonist was doing free caricatures of the kids, which was totally worth standing in line for. Here's Gavin and my girls (Porter was busy checking out the playground, so I left him alone). I love how a caricature of a baby is basically a picture of a baby, because they're inherently disproportionate and goofy-looking to start off with.



New this week: somebody has a new trick.

She was actually able to get into a sitting position before - she accidentally discovered the skill while teaching herself how to scooch across the floor - but lacked the requisite balance to keep herself upright for more than a few seconds. (I blame it on those big fat cheeks.) Now she can not only sit up, she can bend over to pick up her brother's shoe and sit upright to chew on it. And now I have a hard time getting Amy to lie down for naps. Her favorite is to sit up in the middle of the living room floor and sing a song she just wrote, which goes like this:

I am the cleverest baby in the world

I know how to sit up all by myself

Look at me, I am so clever, not to mention cute

Now, how 'bout some miiiiiiilk...

I don't like to brag, but could the Nobel Prize for Babyness be in her future?

Happy

Amy knows how to laugh now. She was looking at me the other day and just busted out chuckling. It's the best sound in the world, is it not? Actually, science needs to find a way to bottle babies' laughter, because in pill form I'm pretty sure it would actually cure cancer.

I'm glad that Amy is happy, because she's had a pretty rough week. She pretty much refused to take any bottles from the sitter, so she was RAVENOUS by the time I got home each day. She's had a pretty nasty diaper rash so maybe she was too upset to eat, or maybe it's my newfound love of onions that's the problem. I've recently discovered that I can make caramelized onions in my own kitchen - the trick is to use a lot of butter - and I can't get enough. The other day, for example, I did the onions and tossed in some black beans, cut up chicken, barbecue sauce and cilantro and made it all into quesadillas. YUM. But I don't think Amy enjoyed it so much.

I finally took the plunge last week and got all my hair cut off. SHORT. I will post a picture as soon as I figure out where I left the camera, but I also need some blonde highlights pretty badly. Porter told me that it looks "horrible" (did he mean adorable? I don't know) but Betsy was more diplomatic. "I love you..." she says, all serious-like, "but I don't like your hair." Personally, I'm a bit on-the-fence about it. I was going for the Mia-Farrow-in-Rosemary's-Baby cut, which would look really cute but I seem to have the wrong hair for it - it keeps trying to poof up in the front, early-nineties style. Maybe it will look better when the front is longer. At any rate, it's much, much easier to deal with when getting up at four-thirty in the morning.

Porter has actually started to use the potty a bit - many of his compatriots are already fully trained but he's light years ahead of where Betsy was at the same age, so I feel all right about it. We went to Target today - because it's a Friday and that's what we do on Fridays - to pick him out some big boy underpants. Porter chose Buzz Lightyear, same as his Halloween costume (that I bought him in January).Of course it wasn't until I got home that I realized, due to a grave design flaw, our favorite space ranger only appears on the BACK of the underpants. Seriously, what genius thought of that? So, Porter has to wear them backwards and with no pants on, so that he can see Buzz, and he looks really funny running around that way. The whole backwards-underpants thing could cause a real wedgie problem, if he had a butt, WHICH HE DOESN'T.

And Betsy? She starts kindergarten in TWO WEEKS. How is that even possible? And we still haven't gotten her supply list - we don't even have her class assignment, I have no idea if she'll be in the AM or PM class - so I have been deprived of the eraser-sniffing fun of back-to-school shopping. Only in Betsy's case it's not BACK to school but I'm pretty sure you catch my meaning.

Allow me to take a moment to share my newfound love for "Snacktime," a new album of kids' music by the Barenaked Ladies. Sheer brilliance. We got it from the library but I will - nay, I must - own it soon. And the answer to the question "That's all very well and good, Joni, but is there a song about ninjas?" is Of course there is.

And squee! It's only one more week until the Olympics start.

Find the Baby

Where is she? Where'd she go?

Amy's sleeping in her crib now in her very own room. The pediatrician told me that likely the reason she keeps waking up in the night (more so than she should be, given how fat the girl is) is that she smells me. Hey, I can't help that I'm delicious.

Does anyone know how to get lipstick out of clothing? No, I didn't find mysterious kisses on Matt's collar; I left my brand-new Mother's-Day-gift lipstick in my dress pocket, and now there are smears of Cover Girl 'Cutie' all over one of my new shirts. And of course I didn't find it until everything had been through the dryer so I'm lucky it's not much worse. But I think it's funny considering that I almost never wear lipstick. And I've washed my ChapSticks dozens of times withno ill effect (well, except for ruining the ChapStick but they're only ninety-seven cents each so who cares?) Serves me right for trying to look pretty for a change.

she's Fifty!

Anyone remember the Sally O'Malley character that Molly Shannon used to do on SNL? "I'm fifty!" All I could find on Youtube was imitations of it but you get the idea. Anyway, Little Miss Amy Lou is exactly fifty days old right now; I realized it when I was up at some unearthly hour this morning. No, I am not so obsessed that I've been counting the days but she was seven weeks yesterday, and 49 + 1 = 50. (And, truth be told I only know she's seven weeks because I went to the doctor last Friday.)


The point being, 50 is a nice round number, and Amy is a nice round baby.


***WARNING: GRATUITOUS THIGH SHOT***

I will say, Amy doesn't smile a whole lot for being almost 2 whole months old. And she's still not giving me that one blessed 4-hour shift at night. I suspect that she's just a teensy bit more high maintenance than my other babies but maybe my memory is skewed. I've definitely been lucky with the easy babies, no colic or reflux or weird allergies or the like (toddlers are another matter but let's not even go there).

On the other hand, I am becoming a lot more laissez-faire about the whole thing. Like, when I had Betsy (and even with Porter, to a lesser extent) I was all "no bottles! no pacis!" but with Amy, by the second 24 hours of her nursing every freaking forty-five minutes, I was practically begging the nurses to take her and give her an ounce or two or 45 of formula. I told them I don't care if they give her hot wings and beer, I just can't take constant feeding. I mean, not that I am any less dedicated to nursing Amy than I was with the others but a lot less paranoid about supply issues and the dreaded "confusion" (which I think is a myth anyway) and I also let her sleep in our bed probably one night out of three, not on purpose but because I fall asleep feeding her. It's kind of nice, this whole actually knowing what you are doing.

Betsy had her end-of-the-year school picnic and I finally got to meet some of the moms of her classmates. It's funny, I'm going to have to get used to being addressed as "Betsy's mom." Here is Betsy with her absolutely wonderful teacher Mrs. Kirkendall.
Can you see, from the photo, what a nice gorgeous sunny day it's been? Still not hot enough to go to the pool but just right for a walk around the neighborhood after dinner.

Truth in advertising

I think that, in this case, the sentiment speaks for itself:


So anyway, in the interest of full disclosure and all that, I should tell you that this is going to be a very long and rambling post. You may find it boring, as it's comprised mostly of things I thought of when I was up at 3 a.m. Consider yourself warned.


We got a new bishop on Sunday. His name is Craig. This means that 3 out of the last 4 bishops we've had were Craigs. (I should make a list of them... har har.) In fact, a previous bishopric even had an emergency backup Craig. He moved away to a different state... and promptly got called as bishop. Man, am I ever glad my husband is named Matt.


Yay, there's a new Death Cab for Cutie song! I think that my favorite Death Cab song is still this one, however (plus the video is neat).


I finished a dress I started working on, like, a month ago. (The colors in the photo are a little off, but trust me, it's the best fabric EVER. Hey Mom, can you guess the designer?) The pattern is Simplicity 3875, only I used the View B sleeves and the View C neck. I had to make a new pattern piece for that, plus I changed the back a little. Oh, and I added pockets.

I am really happy because this dress ACTUALLY FITS ME, RIGHT NOW, and it's NOT MATERNITY CLOTHES or ANYTHING. I knew there was a reason dresses were invented.

Porter's birthday is on Sunday. You know what I realized? I like cake a lot better than pie, but I am actually a lot better at making pie than cake. (I'm also pretty talented at making Pie.)


Amy is doing better at sleeping, but only in her carseat. I get the feeling she's going to love her baby swing, once she gets enough head support to use it. I got out my baby sling today, too. It's useful for when I'm on the computer and actually want to use two hands to type because I swear this baby wants to be held all the time. I am so going to miss it when she's a toddler, though (or a snotty teenager, right?)

Every time I have a new baby, Matt and I watch the entire series of Band of Brothers. We got started when Betsy was brand new and Matt went to Blockbuster (!) to rent a video (!!) that we could watch while I was sitting around nursing. Needless to say, we had to see the whole 10 hours of it (plus bonus features). It's sort of become a tradition since then, because as we all know nothing says "Welcome to the world, sweet baby!" like guys getting their legs blown off in the Ardennes forest...

I'm a bit late blogging about it, since the new episode airs tonight, but how great was this?

As someone who was fake-proposed to, I found that scene hilarious. Long story short: Matt took me out on a super romantic date, horse carriage ride, you name it, with a jewelry box in his shirt pocket. (I found out later the box was fake - he didn't even pick up the ring until the next day.) And took me home and kissed me goodnight and didn't propose to me. And stood on a street corner the next day holding a cardboard sign, you know, like a mendicant. So if Jim shows up in the season finale with a sign that says "Will Marry For Food," I will seriously die.

I think I may have run out of things to say for now. Aren't you relieved?

Cute as a button

This Silly Song no longer applies to Amy:



I was getting her ready for her little sponge bath last night (gotta wipe the puke off before church, ya know) and something about her seemed different. It actually took me a moment to realize that her cord stump had fallen off. I found the nasty, shriveled-up thing in the kitchen sink; it had apparently gotten knocked loose while Matt was undressing her.

So, we changed gears a little and have a real bath instead of a mere dabbing of flailing arms and limbs. And to my surprise, she loved it. (Betsy and Porter both screamed bloody murder during their first tub baths, although they love bath time now. In fact, I've had to stop Porter from taking a bath in his clothes. More than once, even.) She was laying in the little baby tub naked and ticked off, and as soon as she felt the warm water on her little body, she got really calm. I guess you can't underestimate the power of a nice warm bath. She even didn't hate having her hair washed (which seems to be a universally loathed experience) but she sure was ticked when I got her out.

Oh, and one other thing.

Amy's birthweight, last Wednesday: 8 pounds, 4 ounces

Amy's weight last Friday, when we left the hospital: 7 pounds, 12 ounces

Amy's weight at her first checkup yesterday: 8 pounds, 6 ounces

For you non-mathy types, that is 10 ounces in 6 days. That's right people, I am just that good.

one week

So. We've made it through the first seven days. I am really, really tired (but that's down from three reallys so that's actually an improvement).

The first night home (Friday) was probably the worst. Little Miss Amy, bless her stinkin' heart, was awake from midnight until 4 a.m. I'd nurse her, put her down, and in five minutes she'd start crying again. She only wanted to be held, having apparently decided that her bassinet was actually some sort of medieval torture device. (Just be glad we didn't spring for the Deluxe Model, baby; it comes with thumbscrews.) I finally let her sleep on top of me, which I hate to do, but I was so tired I couldn't even walk in a straight line. And I was thinking, oh great, we have a High Maintenance Baby.

Things got a lot better on Saturday, though. I think it helped that the milk factory was fully operational, and she was no longer convinced that she would starve to death if we left her for a few minutes. She slept for about a four-hour stretch that morning (why is that four and hour don't rhyme? They should) and I was able to focus my eyes and form complete sentences again, so that was great. She's doing a lot better with sleeping in her own bed now.

Another thing Amy doesn't like, along with hats, the evil bassinet, and the green pacifier (the blue one is fine) is burping. Amy says this is because she is a lady. Even Matt has a hard time coaxing more than a dainty 'urp' out of her after a feeding. The problem is, a baby who doesn't let loose like a trucker after nursing is a baby who's going to wake up crying five minutes down the road, just in time to douse her sympathetic parent with Pasteurized Dairy Food Product. All that puke necessitated a sponge bath on Sunday night, if only to clean out her neck folds and her little ears. I put her in the baby bathtub and filled a separate container with warm water; I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner, it's a lot easier than trying to wash a screaming slippery baby on the countertop. Amy, however, thought this was a Singularly Bad Idea and did not hesitate to say so. However, she survived the experience even though she insisted she wouldn't, and I only wish you could all feel how velvety-soft her head is when it's been freshly washed. Also, her hair looks a lot blonder when it's clean. Gross as that may be, I always found it to be a fairly reliable indicator of when Betsy needed a bath. I just wish babies were like the water filter in my fridge, where the green light turns to yellow and then red.

Mandy and Miles came up on Sunday, so we could get a picture of all five cousins together.

Check it out, Betsy is actually smiling at the camera! Which kind of makes up for what Porter is doing.

We also had a delicious cake
and didn't give Amy a bite.

Amy Louise is here!

It turns out, yep, I was in labor. (We set up the VCR to tape NCIS; Matt did the grocery shopping the next day.) I left for the hospital at 8 p.m., and I was already 2.5 cm dilated by the time my doctor checked me. I didn't even have to go to triage first, because I was the only woman in the labor & delivery unit that night, and my OB said that if it was false labor, they'd just give me Pitocin and let me go ahead and have her, since I was scheduled to be induced so soon anyway. But I ended up not needing any Pitocin, which was a new experience for me. Since I was already dilated a few cm. I got to have the crack pipe, umm, the epidural pretty much as soon as the anesthesiologist could come in and drive a giant needle into my spine. My labor actually progressed pretty fast and I was all the way dilated at 1 a.m. I pushed for a little while and she was out at 1:08 on Wednesday, April 9.

Matt said he could tell right away that she was bigger than our other ones. I apparently have no frame of reference (all I could tell is that she's smaller than they are now) but he was right, she was 8 pounds, 4 ounces. She's also the only baby I've had who cried for more than a second or two after she came out. Amy actually screamed for twenty minutes straight until she was all weighed and eye-dropped and generally harrassed and I could nurse her. I thought it was pretty funny, actually - all the arm-flailing, eyes-closed yelling she did was actually pretty impressive for someone that small.

And now: pictures.

umm...

I am having a lot of contractions at this point. Ouch.

I am hoping that it's false labor, because a) I haven't seen the new NCIS yet and b) we have like NO groceries in the house.

The good news is, Emily came today instead of Thursday as we had originally planned. Otherwise I'd really be freaking out. As it is, I have someone to watch my kids, even if they don't have anything to eat.

Clean this mess up, else we'll all end up in jail

Yes, I actually cleaned. I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned and my house is now... um, I'd be lying if I told you it was spotless, but it's pretty good. The toilets are scrubbed (yuck), the kids' rooms are picked up and vacuumed, the kitchen is wiped down and I only have one load of laundry waiting to be folded. I got most of this done during General Conference (which is, incidentally, the only time we ever use the baby monitor). So, the house is pretty much ready to bring a new baby home to. I still have the grocery shopping to do so we won't starve (at least I don't have to buy food for Cutie Pie).

I've been having a lot of contractions, but they are all totally irregular and therefore nothing other than a nuisance. Thank heavens for Pitocin. (I am a big fan of better living through chemistry.) In fact, I'm pretty sure if it wasn't for Pitocin, I would still be pregnant with Betsy, which would be really inconvenient now that she rides the school bus.

I also got some scrapbooking done. (This no-scanner thing is killing me. As soon as Matt gets a job offer, I think that's the first thing I'm buying!)

So, it's four more days until I go into the hospital to have my little girl. (Unless I actually go into labor, which I have the tiniest hunch might happen - but I also thought Cutie Pie was a boy.) My sister Emily is driving up tomorrow (or down, depending on your sense of direction) so I don't have to worry about the kids. I mean, she'll only be here a week, so she can't possibly scar them too badly. And the timing of that is good because the first new episode of NCIS since the writers' strike is going to be on tomorrow night. Not that I'm looking forward to that, or anything.

The weather is really, really nice right now. I have the windows open and everything. It was, like, forty degrees and raining the day we brought Porter home from the hospital and that was at the end of April - I sure hope this lasts!

(P.S. Who can guess what song the title of this post is from? I bet Mom knows it...)

...And we know that deliverance is nigh.

Still pregnant over here but with one very important difference: I have an actual number of days left to go. My doctor is going to induce me next Thursday, so Cutie Pie will be born on Friday, the 11th. (I actually could have had her today, only that was a no go because Matt's in Utah. Actually I think he's somewhere in the sky right now.) Not only is it nice to have a light at the end of the tunnel (try not to think too hard about that) but also, more importantly, it means that Emily can come up from Kentucky and stay with the kids. I've been a teensy bit worried about how that would work out, since all of our family is so far away.

Mainly, though, I just want to stop being pregnant.

I'm actually feeling pretty well prepared. The bassinet is set up, the suitcase is packed, the carseat is installed, all the teeny little socks and snap-side shirts have been washed and stashed away in the changing table. And I have a couple of packs of newborn diapers - it was kind of hilarious, actually, buying Porter's and Amy's diapers today. He wears the size 6 ones. Not all of the laundry is done but at least the bathrooms are clean, and this weekend (since it's General Conference) I think we will finish cleaning up the rest of the house. This is all very important to me because when I had Porter, almost none of that stuff had been done. Yeah, ask me about installing the infant seat in the store parking lot on the way to the hospital. In the rain. (It was pretty funny, I have to admit.) Also, my house was a mess and I worried about that while I was in labor. In the end my mother-in-law and a lady from church came and cleaned everything before we came home with Porter, which was really, really nice but also embarrassing.

So, I'm feeling pretty well set up for the whole thing, which probably means I'm forgetting something really important. I wonder what it is...

Oh Danny boy, oh boy oh boy... oh Danny.

I don't really get into St. Patrick's Day, and how could I? There's no chocolate involved. I don't have very much green in my wardrobe, and none of it fits my rapidly expanding girth anyway. I can't tell the difference between Dropkick Murphys and Flogging Molly. I've never drunk green beer, and I never will. But THIS is pretty much the funniest thing I've EVER seen.

In other news, Betsy lost her other bottom front tooth last night. It didn't really seem like it was loose enough, but apparently it was. I'm glad that the tooth came out because it's been bothering her lately - I actually had to put Orajel in her mouth the night before (thank goodness I have, like, three half-used tubes of the stuff).

I felt one of Amy's toes last night - how weird is that? She gets really active when I lay down to go to bed, and I like to amuse myself by playing Guess The Body Part. She was kicking, and I got ahold of something tiny and round - I've never felt anything like that before. I can only assume it's one of her piggies. I'm guessing it's the one that went to market, but until modern medical science figures out a way to install a Plexiglass viewing window in my womb, all I can do is poke around a whole bunch. I've also discovered that Amy doesn't really like me using my belly as a table. Whenever I rest a book or a plate or something on top of my girth, she tries her hardest to kick it off. Gee, baby, I'm sorry if I've inconvenienced you.