baby-free, still.
so the plan

eviction notice

If the weekend-long lack of posts got your hopes up about Nemo's arrival, let me dash them. He is still in there, probably writing graffiti on the walls and trashing the carpet. It would be an understatement to say that we're both getting a little bored at this point and lashing out randomly. At my OB appointment today, we are going to talk about forcing the matter. More details to follow as warranted.

Still, it was a good weekend, all things considered. The Diva's room is painted and looks exactly like an exploding Easter egg, which makes her very happy. The adults in the house can almost hear the walls vibrating and need some insulin. But the Diva is dead chuffed. Since she's the one who'll be sleeping in there, my distrust of that much pink shall remain my secret.

The best part of the weekend was yesterday. Two very good friends put on a smashing baby shower. First, the food was divine: two kinds of quiche, fresh fruit and dip, pigs in a blanket (which foreshadowed the next bit I'm about to reveal), muffins and fruit bars and cream cheese mints (which are a Midwestern delicacy that I'd never before experienced, which is good, because they are the sort of thing one could eat until one plotzes). There were gifts. There was conversation, which included a brief detour into my Mother-in-Law's rediscovered stash of knitted uteruses (uteri?). There were women of all ages doing that bonding thing we do, but not in any kind of encounter group touchy-feely way.

There were also games, of course. First up was one involving a toy baby frozen in an ice cube. The goal was to guess the time that the baby would be "birthed" fully. Ah, if only it were that easy. The weather helped, in this case. Nothing like upper-80s with 80 percent humidity to speed the process along. Again, if only it were that easy.

The hit, however, and the reason I can't eat a pig in a blanket without snickering slightly, was Pin the Teenie Weenie Peenie on Nemo game. Here is the finished game board:

And a close-up of the Peenies:
(Sorry about the color -- photographing a pink piece of paper taped to my burnt-orange living room wall seems to have given the camera a small breakdown. It has been given some Xanax and a minute to regroup.)

The peenie-maker, who I need to invent another nickname for, did a fine job in providing a wide selection of styles and shapes, n'est-pas? Better still was that the peenie-maker's almost-five-year old daughter, husband and father-in-law each had a hand in the process, even if it was just walking into the room and laughing hysterically.

To sum up, it was a very good couple of days and I have very wonderful (and, admittedly, odd) friends. And this is very pleasing.

Now, back to the waiting.


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