I haven’t blogged anything about Baby Meatball’s impending arrival. With only eight weeks to go until his expected due date (!), I thought I would update you, my faithful five readers.
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I think the scariest thing about Baby Meatball’s (BMB) impending crash landing on our planet is not knowing when it is going to happen. He reaches full-term on my birthday and after that, we’ll have to be as ready as we can be. I’ve been wondering where am I going to be when it’s showtime – at work, at home, at her parent’s house, in the middle of an ill-advised road trip. I’d say BMB can take his time getting here but I’m not exactly the one pregnant here.


Our ultrasound technician asked, “Do you want to know the gender?” We both awkwardly said “yes” as if it were obvious that there was no way our parents (well, my mother) would let us get away with waiting until the baby was born to find out.




