That my wife went into labor with Yogi. Today we are 37 weeks and 2 days. Last time around I woke up to a concerned wife who was sure that she was feeling different, but wasn't so sure what that meant. By the time I was closing in on my second cup of coffee it was becoming clear that a Yogi was in our not-at-all-distant future.
This morning has been uneventful. Yogi helped cut his banana for cereal (when did my baby start eating cereal? - the kind that regular people eat!) and my wife appeared to be her very, very pregnant self. So far, Monkey isn't making any noises but you can never be too sure.
Our next OB appointment is Thursday afternoon and Grandpa and Muzzie should be here in a matter of days. Life continues. Not even my obsessive Monkey fever has the power to change anything beyond my own weird anxiety symptoms. All I can hope is that this baby comes before my system collapses from my inability to eat anything that isn't baked in an oven and featuring sugar as a primary ingredient.
Pray for me.
But also, I'm serious.
This picture was taken at the batting cages in our neighborhood park. Throughout the week there are kids practicing and playing games and Yogi is fascinated by all of it. He starts chanting "Base. Ball. Base. Ball" when the fields first come into view. I broke out the camera phone for this shot when I looked at my watch and realized that he had been entranced for almost 10 minutes. The boy enjoys some baseball!