Houseguests (but still not the one we want the most)

Yesterday Angie felt the peanut kicking her in the side, so she touched the foot, and . . . toes! Our baby has toes . . .

Now if it could only use those toes to make an exit.

Angie's sister Christi and her two girls were in town these past few days, and while it was fun having them, it's a good reminder why we're having our kids one at a time. The Larson women have planning in their genes, so Angie and Christi were always on the go, and Angie was feeling it later.

On Wednesday we checked in at the doctor, but Angie still isn't dilated at all, even with all that walking around.

Grandma and Grandpa Rimbo are flying into town today for a week. We're hoping the peanut will make its big entrance sometime this week to meet them, but we don't want to rush it. We like individualized names for grandparents, and we're thinking the Rimbo grandfolk will be referred to as "Babu" and "Bibi," which are the Swahili words for grandma and grandpa, irrespectively. The Bantu words are so basically phonetic, that my mom thinks the baby will say those words before "daddy." She's probably right.

On Sunday I (Justin) am finally graduating from college, ten years (almost to the date) after I graduated from high school. Take that, education. If the baby comes, it's just an added bonus.

I've caught the nesting bug, and yesterday I tried to dust/de-grime the bedroom where our child will be sleeping for the first few weeks of his/her life. I tried to vacuum the curtains, but they were just SO DUSTY that I threw them in the wash. Then I realized that the windows were filthy. So I cleaned those. And they turned the rag black. Yuck. I'm glad I got that stuff out of there before our kid arrives. I think once you're a parent, you have to get better about keeping the house clean . . . that's tough.

T-Minus "Isn't-the-baby-here-yet?"

Ok, baby Rimbo.

Any day now.

We know you're in there.

This morning I leaned over to my wife's belly and said, "Are you sure you don't want to come out today? All the other kids are doing it." And they are. Pregnancy seems to be pretty popular now-a-days, and here's a short list of all the couples we know who have had a baby this spring/summer:

Josh and Gail
Chad and Jenny
Beth and Jeromy
Alex and Jessica
Tim and Laura
The Osmundsons
Jay and Tia

And it seems like there's a bunch more. Our baby, however, does not give into peer pressure. Yes, I realize that our official due date is still two weeks away.

But we're ready -- those last few big-ticket items, namely a dresser and a pack-n-play, have arrived at our house and are waiting to meet the baby. I think the baby might have dropped, too. It's getting pretty hard for Angie to walk around, but easier to breathe.

This past week I was on pins and needles because I was hired by Trinity to help lead a mission trip to downtown Minneapolis. It was a great trip, particularly the work site where we were, but I left my phone on all the time, and kept expecting a phone call in the middle of the night requiring a hasty exit. It didn't come.

Angie and I have also consoled ourselves by buying anniversary presents (today's the big number 5) that were way out of our price range. I got her a diamond ring that's a band so she doesn't have to worry about scratching the peanut once the holding ensues. It fits her now, but we'll have to re-size it once her hands de-swell. She may get mad about me sharing this information with you.

Angie got us a copy of Rock Band as well, so she and I have started a group called Unicorn Vicar, and we're conquering the world with her on guitar, and me on drums as a Swedish eccentric beanpole named Brian. She likes it when I talk in my vaguely European accent. I'm hoping to get her on drums soon so I can show you pictures of a very pregnant rock star.

Hopefully the next time you hear from us we'll have a baby for which to take the pictures of.

T-Minus 3 weeks

Everything is hunky-dory in Rimboland. Our house is steadily filling up with baby "stuff," and Angie is steadily filling up with baby.

It feels like we're kinda ready, or at least we have the right equipment, barring a few big-ticket items here or there. But our kid won't care if we have a dresser, or a rocking chair . . . those things will come eventually if we need them. At this point we aren't avoiding any heavy lifting or exercise. To quote a certain movie, at this point, it can only help us. Bring it on, baby.

We're technically full-term, but Angie looks fabulous for a lady who's 9 months pregnant. She carries the baby so leanly and well-distributed that if you look at her from the front, it's not that obvious:

But then when she lifts up her shirt, and her husband makes kissy faces at her belly . . .

Yup. That lady's pregnant. Call the papers!

Angie's even having some practice contractions, which we call "conpractions." I guess eventually they just keep on coming, and then it's time to head to the hospital.

Speaking of which, here's my packing list:

Clothes (inc. underwear)
Snacks
A copy of "East of Eden." (I hear there may be waiting involved.)
DVDs
Zombie Fluxx

PLUS! Receiving blankets and some coming-home outfits for the baby. No way of knowing how big it's gonna be, so there are various sizes . . . my favorite is one from my parents that says, "I'm New Here," but it's sized at 9 mos. Seems inconsistent . . .

Now Angie's going to make her first attempt at baby-blogging. Hang on to your hats:


Hi. It's me, Angie. I hope your hats didn't get lost between those lines of text. You can probably let go of them now.

So, yep, here we are. Rimbos getting ready for our next big adventure. As Justin mentioned, our house has been taken over by mass amounts of baby stuff, and seeing as I could go into labor any time, we've got to be ready. (Although chances are, it'll be awhile..)

People keep asking me how I'm feeling. Aside from needing an afternoon nap to make it through the day, and trading in my sashay for a slight waddle, I'm physically fine. Also, I've started wearing my wedding ring on a chain around my neck rather than on my finger due to swelling fingers. It's really weird to have strangers at the grocery store see that you are pregnant and not wearing a ring and shoot you dirty looks.

Emotionally, I'm running the gambit right now. Nervous, excited, glad to be out of school, tired, terrified, and constantly lost in thought about the many transitions ahead for us. All the while, trying to stay in the present and be glad for all the blessings I have- a great community of friends, a healthy baby, a husband who is not afraid to be a dork with me, and will be a great daddy. Pretty great.

All for now. 23 days and counting until our due date. We'll keep ya posted.

All Babies Want to Get Borned

Here in the last month leading up to baby Rimbo's impending impact, things are relatively normal with Angie and I, but there are tiny signals popping up everywhere that something will change soon.

Par example: There's a car seat in my car. THERE IS A CAR SEAT. IN MY CAR.

I realize that a lot of people wait until . . . later in the ninth month to take up so much space in their backseats. But excitement + boredom + a lot of free time = a car seat. That's just science. I thoroughly cleaned the Ion out with a vacuum and everything, lest our child catch diphtheria from loose change and old french fries. I finally got the thing in -- it was way less complicated than its reputation led me to believe, and I think I over-thought it. Those little anchor things in newer cars are a godsend. After I was convinced it was secure (enough), I sort of stood back and said/thought, ". . . whoa." One month to go. Showtime.

Packing a hospital bag is a whole 'nother animal. I have packed many bags in my time. I travel a lot. But what do you pack when you could be leaving at any moment? How do you get bathroom stuff ready when you still might need to use it every day? I realize that things don't happen like they do in the movies, with panic and drama, but I want to be prepared . . . after all, you never know. One month seems like a long time, but when I say, "we're 36 weeks pregnant," that's totally different. It seems imminent.

And the baby's room is getting crowded, too. Our friends threw Angie a shower last weekend, and we have all sorts of cute clothes and toys and books . . . still a little short on the practicality end, but it is a Rimbo, after all. Still, I'd be ok welcoming the peanut home today, if we had to. (I bet Angie would be ok with that, too, but I'll leave that for her to say.) All this unpacking and opening and arranging is kind of a nesting thing, and it feels good.

We've been going to the doctor weekly now, and everything is looking healthy. The little heartbeat thing says, "wowowowowowow."

So now we're watching Juno, one of our favorites. Sometimes Angie thinks it's funny when I do my Jennifer Garner impression: "Can you hear me baybeeee?"

Welcome and . . . hello.

This is it. You have arrived.

A cyber-space-niche for baby Rimbo and his or her exploits.

Birth date? Who knows?!

Gender? Hopefully one of two!

Name? Something cute!

You'll have to check back here and go through this with us. Hoping for:

- News
- Pictures
- Videos
- Etc.

Stay with us.