Oh, we are getting so close now! Just a week from tomorrow morning I will be under the knife, yikes. I really, really don't want a c-section. But I'm trying to decide to be at peace with it so I can just enjoy what is enjoyable and not stew over the parts that aren't. Being me, that's a challenge. There are big storms predicted for tomorrow and after...maybe I'll go into labor and have the baby in the car. Wait, that doesn't sound great either ;)

Owen is ALL OVER the baby chatter around here. I'm not sure at this point if he really is thinking about a human being when he insists on lifting up my shirt and caressing my hyper-stretch-marked tum, or if he has somehow developed an absurd crush on the abdomen itself. Either way, he is very sweet, and he is the ONLY person I can tolerate such a crush from. I'm at the point where even if Reuel tries to complement my appearance in any way (kind husband that he is), it takes discipline for me not to roll my eyes and say give me a break.

We have been overusing the same handful of movies that Owen watches while I take a shower in the morning, and I happened to see a DVD on sale for 3.99 at TJMaxx so I picked it up. It's a Sesame Street production about a new baby being added to the Three Bears family. It is mildly annoying, but not too bad. Owen loves it. We were watching a bit of it today after naptime, and I left Owen alone for a bit with the excuse that I needed a bathroom break...which was true, but then I stayed away a bit longer for an email check and a cold drink, too. Suddenly, my ears tuned into whimpering from the living room. Owen was sitting on the couch muttering, 'Mommy, mommy. Baby curly bear. Baby curly bear. Mommy.' Now normally I would have thought that he was being whiny about me not being right by his side...and that was definitely part of what got him sad today. But he was not being whiny at all, he was genuinely sad! I don't think I've ever seen him truly *sad*. The movie was right at the scene where the new baby bear (aka curly bear) is born at the hospital, and I think he was suddenly unsettled by his mom being away, and this point in the plot, which has been talked about at length around here lately. I sat down next to him and he cuddled right up in my arms and just wanted to keep watching while he hugged me...not the most usual posture for my feisty boy, for longer than a few seconds at a time anyway. He was so tender and lovable...and I am feeling so guilty that we're about to inflict such a difficult transition on him! I know, I know, it will be better in the long term, but it's hard to see the little man sad in the now. Sniff.

Got Owen into a neighbor's pool a few days ago kicking and screaming (it's a new venue! oh no!), and within minutes he was hooked. Then we had the tantrums when we had to leave. That was one of the four total days of summer above 75 degrees that I think we've had this year.

Plenty else has been happening between trying to do some fun things together before life gets a little rough again for a while, trying to organize/clean, and Reuel getting his typical last-minute realization that there is a deadline approaching and he would like to get a few things done. But as usual I am up too late so I had best try to sleep. Not that there is much good sleeping going on between the 3 trips a night to the bathroom and the dreams about giving birth to anything from a 12 pound baby to a fishy, swimming, angelic-like creature. At least I'm not deeply asleep enough to take these dreams seriously. It's strange, with Owen I was sleeping so solidly and soundly right up to the first labor pain, like 10 hours a night. This time might be different because I am staying up too late trying to milk my last weeks of freedom for a while... :)

Here are some cutie pie pictures of Owen from the camera backlog. At the end are some in the traditional Thai clothing that Aunt Deb brought back from her vacation last year...