It's Manatee Season

It is officially manatee season, aka the season of ill-fitting clothes, waddling, and increasing incapacity. I think I have finally reached the point of not being able to sleep even slightly on my stomach; every Friday as I'm hauling several heavy bags of groceries and my 30 lb child up my stairs I wonder when I need to start getting grocery delivery instead. But then I remember last time and how I really felt pretty ok up until about the last week - when I hear what some women go through not being able to drive, not being able to lift anything, having to sleep sitting up, wearing compression hose, etc, I feel very lucky (and healthy). Still a little afraid of my next ob appointment and what may be revealed there. But hey, all I can do is take care of myself and cross my fingers, right?

Today we went to see Santa. It was too hot for cute holiday outfits, so B wore this random St Patty's Day t shirt and was in cranky post-nap mode, but all in all we got *a* picture with Santa, and had a pleasant afternoon with a friend and her three year old who was equally perturbed. I got a sense of what I have waiting for me - and it ain't pretty. Right now I can still "put one over" on Bumpus - he didn't know that the other child had ice cream but he didn't; didn't know that the other child got to play in the bouncy house and he didn't. He just wanted me to pick him up, and wanted to play with random dirty straws he found on the ground. These are his priorities at the moment. Suddenly toddlerhood is looking a lot easier than preschool age-!

Here are pictures from the day that I think capture his general mood - I call them The Song of No: