Yes, I know it's been a while since my last report, but lots of things have been going on here in Belly-o-Mom and I've had to adjust my kicking and squirming schedule accordingly.
Father is up to his armpits in films, animation and online English writing courses, but he is managing to stay on top of things with great dedication to the ancient arts of procrastination and last minute panic.
Mother is looking healthy, one might say glowing with an inner maternal light, and I think she is still enjoying carrying me around and making frequent trips to the bathroom. I have to admit that I am feeling a little guilty though, for it has transpired that I have given her something called 'Gestational Diabetes'. This means that she has to test her blood sugar every day, and has stopped eating bread which previously made up 98% of her diet.
Uncle Paul and father have tried to be supportive, but I really don't think they understand what mother is going through.
Still, she's enduring these little pricks for my sake - and the needles aren't much better.
One upside of my solitary confinement is the ability to live vicariously through mother without having to clean up afterwards, and nowhere was this more evident than at something called a 'baby shower', which appeared to be thrown in my honor.
This was a spectacular event, all organised by Auntie Pam, Auntie Pilar and Auntie Jyoti and including many fun games and lots of yummy food (which made it to me eventually).
One of the games was the dirty diaper game, where folks had to guess what I had eaten merely by their sense of smell.
Just wait until I'm out and filling these parcels myself - I don't think father will be quite so willing so stick his schnozz in then!My parental units then displayed their skills with diaper changing.
I'm a bit worried about father's level of care, but on the flip side I am excited to learn that I have a cool, black brother.
A little later in the day some ice cream cake came sliding down my way. Through my navel periscope I could see that the cake was adorned with my namesake.
I forsee tiny costumes being made for me one day - oh boy, I'm never going to get a girlfriend...All of the attendees brought gifts (but no gold, frankenstien or myrrh) and father proudly modelled his diaper bag which, he claims, might have room for a diaper after he has put his wallet, phone, keys, water bottle and Nintendo DS in it.
The excitement was too much for me, and I had to resort to kicking mother for the rest of the night just to make sure she was still awake and enjoying herself - I think she appreciated my gesture.
Well, I'm off now. We are getting ready to fly to a place called 'Atlanta' next week. I always thought it was a lost underwater city, but I guess they must have found it and dried it out.
Cheerio for now,
HJB
