We're pretending that we don't notice. You've all noticed, I'm sure. No baby.
He's not really in a rush to evacuate the premises. I mean, he has this pretty comfy (w)room(b) reserved until the end of the month. Why should he vacate for parts unknown?
I imagine him listening to our anguished speculation ("But when? When will he come?") with a little smirk and then propping his feet up on my ribs to get a little more comfortable, settling in for the long haul.
No amount of "encouragement" will entice him out before he's ready.
(Foreshadowing a willful personality?)
Intellectually, we know it's a little premature to get as antsy as we are.
So we're doing "normal" things. Like going to the Chinese Garden (above), taking walks, going out for ice cream or drinks, visiting with friends.
But our calendar, really, is remarkably empty. We're not making plans that take us too far from home these days, and everything we do plan is pretty low-key.
And maybe that's the problem!
"Really expensive theater tickets," my midwife prescribed. That, she said, was sure to get labor going.
And given the pleasure he takes at making us squirm, I wouldn't be surprised if that does the trick.
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