m definitely not in the regular-blog-posting groove yet, but hope to be soon. The only thing that’s changed really since Christmas around here is my belly. I’m feeling like a whale, and a good friend confirmed my feeling Sunday when she said, “You’re *big*” Thanks. I know it’s true, and I need to stop pretending otherwise. I did find out there is a semi-excuse for my bigness: I have gestational diabetes. I’m not too worried about it, because all it really means for me at this point is a forced healthy diet and regular exercise routine. So far I’ve actually enjoyed seeing how different foods affect my blood glucose levels (and I’ve been delighted to discover that I can sneak in Cadbury mini eggs without my blood wigging out! Yay!). We’ll see how long that enjoyment lasts… We’re bracing ourselves for tornado #2 to enter the Tilton family: the little guy in my belly rarely holds still and when he’s moving, he’s MOVING. Everywhere. All directions, at the same time. It’s times like these that we’re grateful for Scotty’s energy, don’t have any expectation for a mellow child, and are able to at least prepare ourselves mentally for what’s ahead!
area (Tacoma and Federal Way) in September and October (me and the boys hope to stay with my brother near Bainbridge Island), Allentown, PA in November, and Vegas for December. January is up in the air for the time being, and we’ll spend Feb-May together in the
Jer’s also been able to secure a regular jazz gig at a restaurant in town, Sam and Gabe’s, every Friday and Saturday night. Aside from being a great way to maintain his chops, it’s been a nice pad on the pocket book, and a much needed one this year. He’s our branch’s choir director for the Easter choir, which has been fun albeit short-lived, and just got called to work with the cub scouts. Whoopee!
Scott is still our mostest favoritest boy in the world. He’s not going to know what hit him come May when he has competition around here. So far, though, he’s convinced his baby brother is in *his* tummy, not mine. So I guess he’s not much of a threat yet. Scott’s been especially fun these last few months for us. His imagination has busted wide open! This morning (and
this afternoon AND this evening) he couldn’t be satisfied until Jeremy or I had come to sit with him in his watermelon truck, aka blankets and pillows in front of the futon, the watermelons being our red bolster pillows. His typical constructions are race cars and rocket ships. My favorite Scotty version of a race car he “built” out of the stirrups on the exam table at the doctor’s office. He’s singing his ABC’s and “I am a Child of God.” He’s a puzzle fiend and a movie addict (just like his parents!) and is turning into a neatnick. Maybe even border-line OCD? We’ll have to see: the other morning before church, we couldn’t get him to stop vacuuming (literally—he loves our stick vacuum like it’s his best friend on earth) and he staunchly refused to let us put an unironed shirt on him. I figure if that’s the worst we have to put up with, things aren’t too bad. Apparently, though, his alter-ego surfaces once he reaches the church nursery: we’re currently going for (if we haven’t already reached) a record number of times a kid can be KICKED OUT of nursery. Really and truly. Every week, sometimes twice. Anyone else ever had this problem??? We’re at a loss.