Peanut Update: Four Months (18 weeks)
Four months. I like the sound of that. It sounds so solid.
Things have been progressing well. The Peanut is approximately the size of your open hand. It can hear and its eyesight is growing stronger. Its fingerprints are starting to develop and its also starting to grow the baby fat that will make up 2/3 of its weight at birth. The most exciting news is that I have started to feel the baby move. It’s not much, and if I hadn’t had Ms. B I would probably disregard it. But once you’ve had a baby, that little flutter is unmistakable.
We have started to make room for the Peanut in the house, which is a much larger project than I originally anticipated. The Peanut’s room will go in what is currently our guest room. The guest room will go in what is currently our office. And our office is moving to a corner of the kitchen. It hasn’t been the simple move I originally thought it would be: Each new space is substantially smaller than its original, so each move requires a similarly substantial reduction in stuff. And I feel like I can’t touch any of these spaces without it rippling out to a half-dozen other areas of the house that also need clearing out and organizing. At some point, unbeknownst to me, we reached maximum capacity in this house. We can do it. We can make room for the Peanut without moving. But it’s going to take the Great Purge of 2010.
Ms. B. has continued to be helpful. Sometimes too helpful. One weekend I was driving Ms. B. to visit her dad. It was ungodly early and I realized that I was dangerously sleepy. I stopped at a gas station to get a cup of coffee. Ms. B., ever watchful, called me on it:
Ms. B.: What are you doing!? You can’t have coffee, Mom.
Me: A little bit will be okay. I promise.
Ms. B.: But it’s not healthy, it’s bad for the Peanut.
Me: It would be worse for the Peanut if I fall asleep at the wheel and we get into a horrible fiery accident because you won’t let your mother have a cup of coffee.
Ms. B: Can I have a Dr. Pepper?
Me: No, but I’d get you juice or milk.
Ms. B.: What about a Hershey’s bar?
Ms. B: Cotton candy?
Me: Do you have any idea what time it is? It’s breakfast. It’s before breakfast. Granola bars, cereal, juice. Think breakfast. These things I will get you.
Ms. B.: Why not? Why won’t you let me get anything I want?
Me: Am I understanding this correctly? I get a cup of coffee, which, by the way, I’m doing so we don’t DIE, and you lecture me on my poor health decisions, and then want to know why I won’t let you have cotton candy for breakfast?
Ms. B.: …. (sigh) …. What about Doritos?