38 weeks and counting ...

Preparations are complete. Last haircut for the foreseeable future? Check. Bags packed? Check. Snack stash for the hospital to avoid eating in the cafeteria? Check. Mama so big and uncomfortable the thought of remaining pregnant beginning to seem scarier than labor & delivery? Check. Unable to imagine how life will change? Check.

37 weeks. The clock ticks onward. At the ultrasound yesterday, the doctor pointed out on the screen the hairs on the baby's head. We may not know the gender, but at least the Belly isn't bald!

My new toy: iPod mini in silver. Impossibly cool. My only complaint so far: it works with either a Mac or a PC, but not both. So much for being able to sync it at home *and* work.

36 weeks. The countdown hasn't officially begun, but yesterday Dr. Hill, also a pilot, put it aptly when he said the tray tables are in their full and upright locked position and we're coming in to land. I definitely feel like I'm circling the approach. It's up to The Mayor now to decide when to stop kicking me and come on out to visit.

Very nice baby shower on Sunday, courtesy of the misses Jenn and LT. Lots of sweet layette items (including some with moon theme), plus a purple piggy bank, a diaper bag Ken can carry, and Lisa's bag o' reality gifts (Binkys! diaper rash cream! aerodynamic bottles!). And yummy cheesecake, too. Thanks for everything, ladies!

The Belly now weighs 5 lbs., 9 oz. This explains the back pain and difficulty walking. In fact, I have succumbed and bought one of those maternity support belts.

35 weeks. You know you're getting big when your maternity shirts are tight. Allegedly, the Belly will soon be running out of room to move around so vigorously. I'll believe it when I feel it. Currently one of the baby's nicknames is Kick Kickington, the Mayor of Kick Town, aka The Mayor.

These are the main types of abdominal acrobatics: 1. Generic Kick. Single abrupt motion outwards by hand or foot, usually up near the bellybutton. Often strong enough to make me jump. 2. Hiccups. Little percussive movements at the bottom of the belly. 3. Tap Dance. Extended, repeated versions of #1. Especially popular after meals or when mama is trying to sleep. 4. The Alien. The weirdest motion of all to feel and to watch. Begins at one side of the middle abdomen and undulates across to the other.

Seemingly overnight, I have developed elephant ankles. The bones are all but invisible. Maybe it's from all the water I've been chugging lately, but by the end of the day my feet are puffed up like, well, something very puffy. Pregnancy is so glamorous.

This is why we're sticking to the classics: Baby's Named a Bad, Bad Thing ...

And not only did Sarah help with the nursery, she came bearing gifts, including this very hip Petunia Pickle Bottom diaper bag.

34 weeks. Getting ever closer now. In fact, at the beginning of this week, it looked like the Belly might arrive sooner than planned. But an ultrasound yesterday showed everything was in order, so no cause for alarm, and no need to get put on bed rest.

Meanwhile, it spurred Ken and I to finally drag out the lists of baby names and start to narrow them down. I was also extra grateful for Sarah's visit this weekend from Seattle, during which we did nursery shopping and she wielded a mighty power screwdriver to hang curtains and assemble the changing table/dresser/hutch combo. K then put the crib together on Sunday, letting me put my feet up and watch the Oscars. I put the bedding in it last night. Hurrah! Now the room actually looks like a nursery.

My mom in the news (unfortunately with a really unflattering photo)! Tempe police involve citizens

Clever British humor *and* a film recommendation guide, it's the Guardian Unlimited's Mood Matcher.