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.