Three men and a baby…

Peter:  highly animated over my camera as I sat snapping shots of his cute little face.  Training in camera fascination—courtesy of Uncle Joe…. 

 

We didn’t realize how wiped out little Joshua was until Trina finished fixing his lunch plate and we turned around to behold this…

 

 

 

 

 

The classic bath in the kitchen sink!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mikey:  fascinated with his toes these days….

 

 

 

 

And joining the ranks soon is our very own little person!  Poor Tiny looked like an alien at 13 weeks and 2 days.  I am 16 weeks today, so that weensy little form now looks a bit more promising…well, the books would have me think so.  During my first ultrasound, Sam and I sat drinking in image of the wriggling tiny life inside me, waving it’s tiny arms and legs about and hearing the strong rapid heartbeat brought tears to my eyes.  Since the exhaustion and nausea of the first trimester had mostly subsided by this first doctor’s visit, I had begun to have silly niggling doubts that it was all in my head.  But there really is a baby in there, moving and growing, and we’re going to meet our “Tiny” in just 5 months!  What a thrill!  Methinks, Ruth and Jason, and Sam and I may have the three musketeers on our hands next year.  Let the games begin!

Shameless Neglect

“Sad, sad girl!  I don’t know when I shall have done scolding you!”  Mansfield Park

Shame, shame, shame on me for neglecting this poor little blog!  I didn’t mean to, really I didn’t.  It’s blank pages were always in my thoughts, haunting me with their expanse of white space.  I’m afraid I must confess that I fell into my “journal trap”; that inconvenient state of mind that insists on the perfect entry and instigates gaping emptiness months long.  Sometimes I wonder if I actually killed the perfectionist of my childhood…certain days of my life seem to insinuate that those fussy bones lie in waste…dust and ashes.  But no, ‘dem dry bones sat up and perfectionism reared it’s impertinent little head and whispered, “Oh, but you must wait until the perfect time to think and plan and write.  You don’t have the hours required to do justice to that conversation or adequately describe that event.”  Stuff and nonsense, I say now, though I did listen to said impertinent head for far too long.   Such is often the fate of my journals and so it began with my blog.   But no more!  And I offer my deepest, most humble apology and will commence again.