The Home Stretch

Now that April is here, we’ve officially entered Baby Month. There are 22 days to go, so we’re into the final stretch, which is good because I just cannot stretch any more. My waist is now a staggering (in every sense of the word) 42 inches, which Chris has kindly calculated as 70 percent of my height. A stat like that really warms the heart, I must say. About the only shirts that fit me these days belong to Chris, so it’s probably a good thing that we’re not still working in the same office.

Justin is learning a few new skills (like climbing up on the playground to go down the slide by himself) from sheer necessity; I physically can’t help him the way Chris would, so he’s finding his own way. It bothers me that I can’t do those kinds of things cause it reinforces the idea that Dad is the fun one while Mom’s a bore — and that’s only going to get worse while Mom’s recovering from childbirth. C’est la vie, I guess.