First, belly shots. Took these a few moments ago, which makes them 33 weeks + 1 day. I was aiming for 32 weeks. Close enough.
The belly button is starting to act a bit like a turkey timer. Getting closer to done, but still a bit of time left in the oven. Brad took a close-up of the belly, for your button-viewing enjoyment.
Next: 32-week appointment. We had it on Tuesday, back with Doc G. All was well. Blood pressure, weight gain, belly measurement, heart rate -- all normal. He tried to figure out how Tater is oriented, but couldn't find his head. He was, however, able to rule out a breech position. I shared my concerns that Tater tends to be a side-sleeper and might be transverse until the end. Doc G has never had a baby remain horizontal all the way to full-term. Which bodes well for Tater. Odds are he'll be properly positioned, or he'll be a fascinating anomaly.
Now, the good stuff. Tater has been out on the town four nights in a row. He seems to have thoroughly enjoyed it. (I am completely spent.)
Thursday night Brad and I went to see the Jayhawks at the Vic. We got there relatively early so I could get a seat in the balcony. (Seats make all the difference these days. Standing makes me tired and cranky. But I'm a marathon sitter.) The show was great. We're doing our best to expose Tater to excellent live music. So far, so good. Tater Tour has included Rock of Ages, Superdiamond, New Pornographers, The Jayhawks. . . . Yes, those things go together.
Friday night I went to see Blue Diamond with Heidi and Liza. And now Tater knows what it feels to watch a fantastic, but positively depressing, heart-wrenching, sob-inducing movie, which stars Brad's doppelganger. Man.
Saturday we had brunch with Mark, Meghan, Sam, and Jane. Then we went to Chuck E Cheese together. It's just as I remember, except they've added serious security measures and the pizza is not appetizing. And Brad says the skee ball machine leaves a lot to be desired. Plastic balls? You've got to be kidding me. Saturday afternoon we had the first half of our birthing class with Holly the doula. SO informative and helpful. Saturday night we went to Mark's birthday party which involved two hours of whirlyball. Yup. Second whirlyball event of my pregnancy. So unfair. Though now that I've seen it in person, I understand the prohibition.
Today we made it to church. It had been six weeks, which was entirely too long. Then we had part II of the doula class. Ready for labor? Check.
After that, we raced downtown for a fund-raising event. There's a little mayoral race going on in Chicago right now. It's been just as entertaining as one expects from Chicago politics. With snarky legal opinions to boot. Brad and I haven't been terribly involved in this election, but on Friday we were offered free tickets to a Jeff Tweedy show for R.E. We love Jeff Tweedy. And we have nothing against R.E., so we accepted.
The show was at Park West, which has seating, but there are no guarantees. So we arrived well ahead of time, met up with David and Jenna, and ended up on a padded bench right up front. Unobstructed view of the stage, table for our drinks. Ahhh.
About fifteen minutes before the show, one of the press staff directed three cameramen -- one from each of the Chicago stations -- to stand between us and the stage. Grumble. After five or ten minutes of unsuccessfully attempting telekinesis, I was super grumble. When suddenly, the cameramen hoisted their cameras, turned on blinding spotlights, and pointed them at me. Huh?
Enter R.E. Who is smiling and pumping my hand and asking me lots of questions about my unborn child. Say what? I remember replying thank you, that I was feeling well, that we're having a boy, and that he should tell Brad about his kids. Because I was having a hard time remembering English and social norms. And I desperately wanted the cameras to go away. Eventually they did. R.E. moved down the row and introduced himself to Brad and to Jenna. Then he shook David's hand while commenting on his selection of attire. David was wearing an "Ithaca is GORGES" t-shirt and a skull cap. R.E. said he was glad to see that David dressed up for the event.
The cameramen filmed R.E. for another minute or two before cutting their lights and bolting. About that time, Brad chimes in, "Wow. That was totally staged. You're the next best thing to a baby."
Woah. I felt so used.
But then I felt hungry. A few minutes later, R.E.'s staff started passing out snacks. Snacks! He IS a problem solver! Vote for R.E.!
Oh, and if in utero dancing intensity is any sign, Tater LOVES Jeff Tweedy the most.
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