I have spent this afternoon lazing on the couch clicking around on a screen and watching my tummy lurch and jump and bounce and jiggle to some tune that only its resident hears. 3 hours... and she is still going at it! Perhaps she finds the tight band that is partially squishing her walls a bit constricting. Or, perhaps she is practicing her water polo skills. Perhaps she is bored and has decided to make a clubhouse or try to dig to China. Whatever it is, she seems to be doing it as hard as she can. The unusual sensation of one's midsection trying to leap off one's self of its own volition is singularly distracting. Early in the morning when I arrive at my desk, in the middle of a conversation on the phone, while I am attempting to go to sleep at night... without warning... something goes bump!
There is something absolutely out of this world extraordinary about a baby foot kicking you wherever it ends up after a twirl. It is taking me a long while to get used to, but I know I will miss it even when I have those little toes in my hands.