So. Here we are.

Mid-February, and I’ve dropped the ball again.

Life progresses as usual here. We had a thaw a few days ago, and it rained – RAINED – and melted some of our snow. I was not sad to see it go, because it was getting gray and ugly. Of course, the gray and ugly remains, but at least it’s another reminder that spring will come, eventually.

The first winter I lived in Minnesota – twelve years ago – I had a really rough time adjusting to the long winters. Heck, who am I kidding – I still have problems with the long winters. I just remember that first year wondering if it would ever be spring again. And when it was, it was glorious. A real, true spring – not like what we sometimes had in Kentucky, where our crocuses would bloom in February, and it would be hot and humid by May. The snow slowly disappears, and trees slowly become green. It’s almost as though Mother Nature is trying to make amends for the long winters.

The baby is still unnamed, but penciled in to arrive the week of April 6th. I am trying to visualize what I will look like by then – I have eight weeks to go and can’t imagine how much bigger I may get before D-day. Reed is excited – he was talking to the baby this morning and telling the baby to watch him run fast. What was really funny, though, was when I said, “oh, the baby just kicked me” and Reed said “if the baby kicked you, the baby needs to go to time-out.”

I am starting to slow down some at work. My boss is completely supportive of this (he has three children), and doesn’t seem to mind when I say, “hey, can you handle this” if it involves something that I just can’t physically (or comfortably) do. I had a pre-term labor scare about two weeks ago, and my doctor threatened bed rest. When I told my boss that the next day, he reminded me that I shouldn’t expect to maintain the same level of activity that I usually do – no running from one end of the plant to the other, no climbing onto the roof, etc. Which is nice, but I often feel like I’m using pregnancy as an excuse – until I realize that the people I work with are the ones who are limiting me, not my pregnancy. As easy as it might be to become offended by that, I’m not. I’m not sure if that’s a bad thing or not, but I know they’re looking out for my best interest, so I try not to over think it.

Another quick look at my stats counter shows that at least three people have found my blog by googling “cats who eat scotch tape” or something of the sort. Is this a little-known phenomenon that I should educate myself on?