This one's a kicker

Witch baby got into some super-active position yesterday (my theory, from the pain I was experiencing: sideways across my belly) and kicked and kicked and wriggled and god knows, probably giggled. I don't remember Emily being quite so active, which was making me feel guilty (what if I missed that she wasn't active? What if I could have /done something/?) until I remembered how wild she went at The Return of the King.

A movie I still can't watch. I loved that trilogy and now it haunts me.

You could even feel these kicks on the outside, beyond my belly fat. At 20 weeks! I'm starting to get scared for later. Of course really baby's not so small: check out this picture: at Babycenter. (I hope that works; the little edit/Word-like interface is down at Blogger this morning.)

Anyways, despite my best intentions not to stereotype I am developing a sense of a different personality for witch baby and where I now imagine Emily would have been snuggly and active but not hyper, this baby's a handful.

So perhaps it's a good thing we bought the baby a house on a cul-de-sac in the suburbs of Toronto yesterday, on a street with a park (no playground, but grass and trees and cliffs opening down to the lake far below - with a safety fence!).

The house is a bungalow with mostly hardwood on the first floor (except the kitchen/entryway), perfect for tearing around, big kitchen for playing with pots while mummy (Lyria) makes things, with a finished large basement, perfect for sending kids down to play when they're older. 3 bedrooms, in case witch baby ends up with a sibling. And a completely fenced backyard, not too big, but big enough for a whack of toys and a sandbox.

We close June 24, and then we let the painters in because, my friends, the house is completely decorated circa 1981. I did say we could get posters of Michael Jackson and Prince and stick them up all over instead, but I was vetoed. Unsurprisingly.

It's all very het-middle-class-couple-childrearing and not very urban-polysexual-artist-childrearing, but I think I can cope. I admit that when we first saw this house it struck me as not the best house for me/us, but probably the best house for our actual family to be. Then it sold. Then that deal fell through - yesterday - and we struck while the people were panicking - yesterday - and now it is ours! Conditional on inspection, which will happen Friday.

Now I'm scared, of course, that the baby will die and I will be stuck in a house in the suburbs a little too close to a cliff one could actually throw oneself off of, but I think we will cross that barrier if we come to it. In fact I went down to that same park to cry about Emily one day, and walked there many times pregnant with her, and I suppose if bad things happen I will do the same.

(There is a part of me that thinks if this baby is colicky, too, we'll just take the baby over to the park and let it scream at the lake; why not?)

Hope. It's a powerful thing.

Shandra