". . . Who, setting his hand to knock At a door so strange as this one, Might not draw back?"

Zoey is so excited for spring, and I know she'll love to ride her bike from Uncle Bob (hidden in the basement until we can get her a helmet and it is warm out). My title today is from Hotel New Hampshire, but in the novel it says it is a Donald Justice poem. I can't decide if I've actually heard of Donald Justice, or if I am making the name up--combining some famous people. Needless to say, it is an ode to my predicament. Ollie is late--due April 2nd. I went to the doctor today and was told that "no progress" was being made. I'm going to be induced Monday, April 7th. I don't mind that much, really, but there is something not quite the same as the surprise. Or, maybe I will be surprised before Monday!

Anyway, the end is near, and we are really excited. No matter what, it isn't really "real" for me unitl I see the baby. My sister talked about this whole relationship with her boys in utero, but as for me, the in utero bit is kind of like there is an alien in there. An alien, who this time around, likes to put his foot in my ribs. Dr. Bruno assured me today that I was having a "good size" baby--8 ish pounds or so. Matty and I keep calling him meatball because we imagine he's going to pop out as a chunky little guy, as opposed to Zoey who had elephant knees and was a peanut.

Well, Matty's games of Candyland and doing a puzzle are nearly over, which puts me on bedtime duty soon. I'm fairly obsessed with Amnesia--the tv show that asks people to remember the minutae of their lives. I always think I'd be great at the game. I tend to dwell in the minutae.

More soon. Pictures of Ollie to follow!
Amber