OK, about the girls. They continue to be top-notch students at school and almost part of the family with us. They're very interested in the progress of my pregnancy and eagerly await the birth of boy/girl, makes no nevermind, just get the job done so we can babysit.
I mentioned that Stevie's inquisitiveness got him in trouble. Here's the story. It's summertime, a safe neighborhood, and Stevie pretty much stays where I can see him and Raff. But one day, something strange happens. Do I smell smoke? YES, I smell smoke. I dash outside and see smoke and the beginning of a fire coming from the vacant field out back. Someone has called the fire department already, and I hear the sirens approaching, but where is my baby?!!!! All of a sudden I see a very frightened little boy coming out of the tall, dry grass, from the direction of the fire.
Oh NO!! As it turns out Stevie has such a guilty look on his face (besides being scared) that I immediately know what happened. After the fire was put out, the battalion chief questioned Stevie, and he manfully confessed that he had found some matches and accidentally set the fire. After a very stern lecture, he was released to a very relieved Mama. But once back in the house Mama became very, very, very stern!! About matches. About all the houses that could be burned down. Including his own. And how he and Rafferty could be so badly injured that Mama and Papa would be very, very sad. And I sent him to his room to think about it. I don't think he ever played with matches again. In fact he doesn't even smoke.
Time is approaching for elections, and I'm getting bigger and bigger, but I'm also learning how to handle the trouble makers at political headquarters. (Please note, I am deliberately not naming the party, just in case anyone is wondering.) When I'm not at the office, I'm probably on the phone with Anne discussing what's going on. We talk for hours and hours--well, actually, Anne talks, and I say uh-huh, hmmm, that so at appropriate times. I hate long phones calls, and I wonder if that's when it started.
Stevie fell asleep on the sofa one time while Anne and I were chatting, and I drew a picture of him. I still have the picture packed away someplace. Like a lot of other things.
Christmas is almost upon us, and I'm beginning to have contractions. Oh, no. It's not nearly time yet. By the time I start timing the contractions, they stop. Maybe it's just gas. But he/she has been pretty active in the womb. So the next time I visit my doctor, I tell him about the contraction, and he says, "Oh, couldn't be. It's much too early." Of course it's much too early. The baby's not due until the end of January.
In the meantime Rosalie and Cathy have given me their own private shower for the baby. Some handmade items. A little crib blanket. A pair of booties. Wasn't that sweet of them? But as I said above, they were almost like family by that time.
Well, OK, I'll end the suspense next time. For now----Shalom.