It's Superbowl Sunday, and we're still just trying to take it easy around here. Ravens vs. 49ers. I guess I should be rooting for the Ravens, but I can't say I care that strongly either way. I've never been much for football, or any sport, for that matter. The Superbowl is the only game I generally watch, and even then, only if there's lots of other people around to hang out with while I do it.
This year, it was looking like it would just be your father and me, and I can't say I would have cared much if I missed the game entirely, but it seemed a sad prospect to let the day go by without doing anything. So, we had your Aunt Lisa over, and your dad had a ball making guacamole, onion dip, fresh potato chips, and pigs in blankets.
Lisa and I did our best to keep on top of your brother and sister. A challenge, indeed.
I definitely enjoyed the food, but I haven't been watching much of the game. For the first hour or so, I really couldn't, as I was busy trying to keep your sister's fingers out of the dip and your brother's hands off of pretty much everything on the coffee table. I did, however, happen to have my eyes on he TV during a touchdown that involved a run across the entire length of the field (I know there's a term for that but I'm the opposite of a football expert), and that was pretty exciting to watch.
Now, I'm struggling just to stay awake until the end, which is a little funny considering I've made such a habit in the last few months of staying up much later even than this. I ran out of steam pretty early last night, as well, but had to force myself to stay awake just a little longer than I wanted to for fear that I would not sleep otherwise. Sleep, I did manage to do (for the most part), and I hope for the same tonight. It's such a travesty when I get so close to the end of my pregnancies that the thing I need the most gets so very hard to come by.
You've actually been very helpful in that department. I don't know if you're just really cramped for space now, or what, but the dance party seems to be dying down in there. I think you might even be head-down, finally, after having spent a couple of weeks breech, and few days lying sideways again, because I've ceased to feel the tap dancing on my bladder or against my right side. Just lots of squirms and wiggles, and the occasional kick and punch, more internal and muted than before.
The hiccups get pretty crazy, though, I have to say, now that you've grown so big. They shake my overstretched belly all over until you're done. Your sister never was much of a hiccup-er in utero, and isn't much of one now, while your brother was (and is) quite the opposite. Though you're giving Michael a run for his money lately, I think that you'll fall somewhere in-between. Let's see what happens when we finally meet you, though.