Biding

I neglected to mention it the other day, but as of Wednesday Julie was considered full term, 37 weeks. Generally if you have a preemie and they have to stay in the hospital longer, it's because their lungs aren't yet fully developed. Well at 37 weeks, the lungs are fine, so this baby could come any time and we'd be deemed normal.

Still, we're hoping the November 12th due-date holds true. We can't picture an October baby. October was supposed to be our last month of immaturity, the last month of running naked down the street with pompoms shouting "WE ARE CHILDLESS AND IRRESPONSIBLE! WHEEEEEE!" I don't think October is the time to drive down the street in a minivan, screaming out the window, "IT'S A GIRL AND HER NAME IS BROOMHILDA!"

It's not Broomhilda, by the way. Although it kind of slips off your tongue like Jello, doesn't it? Broomhilda.

Every day from now until the 12th that we don't have a baby is a bonus for the baby. It's all about the fat and the hair, you see, for these are the areas still developing. If we go to the 12th, she'll have a wicked baby-fro and weigh like 17 pounds. She'll probably be able to crawl, too. And pee in the toilet.

But no matter. When she comes, she comes. In the meantime we'll just go to restaurants, watch movies, and generally come and go as we please, trying not to take it for granted that in under a month, our lives will fundamentally change.