Rumbly in my Tumbly

Have been feeling the baby move a ton lately, although nothing for the past two days. This morning, had a pain in my lower left stomach that kept getting worse and worse (not debilitating, just nagging and ouchy), so I called the ob, who said to come on in. So of course I’m terrified, right, especially since Picard has decided to take a hiatus from his disco days. Fufi was nervous as well. Fortunately, am told that it’s “round ligament pain” and that smaller people seem to hurt more, and that I’m just stretching out to make room for the growing beast. I heard the heartbeat again, and everything is perfectly fine. Sorry, I’m paranoid.

So, as I was leaving, I turn on my cell phone to call my baby daddy and let him know that all is still well with the world. The elevator opens, I go to press “send” on my phone, and who is standing on the ground floor waiting to hop in? Fufi himself, the best husband (weird) and father (still weird) the world has ever known. (Now, this may not seem like a big deal to those of y'all who don't know FF, but he works very long hours in a far-away universe called Greer, and never leaves the office spontaneously). Big deal, my friends!

Y'all be sending Smellie mental hugs and snuggles--she had a nasty allergic reaction this a.m. and has been at the vet all day. Only upside of this is that she's waaaay drugged on Benadryl and hence may not go on a pooping (eating and doing) rampage today. Giddy up.