two spoonfuls of sugar

I had a cute exchange with each of the other fam members over the weekend, and I thought I'd share them both at once.

First, Lizzy: When I'm around her, I just want to squeeze her and kiss her constantly and tell her how much I love her. It's been really hard to adjust to the idea that perhaps she's too old for quite that much physical affection. She still tolerates it often, but I know I should start backing off to some degree.

So I'm trying to think of new ways to show her I care, without being too ridiculous about it. Sometimes, I'll just ask her a question. (a technique I remember using with my mom, who didn't always appreciate it. And in fairness to her, I'm growing to see why a moment or two or quiet now and then is a mighty blessing on the days you're around your kids 24/7.)

So I asked Lizzy a few days ago: If you could have one wish, what would it be?

Last year at this time, whenever we'd see a wishing well or fountain kind of thing, she would wish for a cat, or a baby sister or brother. But now that she's getting both in a few months, I was curious about what else she might wish for.

She said: "I wish that I could have a play date every day, and that all of my friends would come to my house to play." Have I mentioned that she's quite a social girl?

As for Matt, he has to endure quite a lot of moaning about what bearing a child is doing to my body. I'm sure 99 percent of husbands of pregnant women can relate (and the other 1 percent are probably deaf). This past week, I noticed that the dreaded Third-Trimester Swelling has begun to set in, despite the fact that I'm about a week off of being in what's considered the standard third trimester.

I remember the cankles of six years ago. Goodness, I do not know HOW the body retains that much fluid, or why, but it's an absolutely astounding ability. Lizzy is amused by my new tendency to turn myself upside down on the bed, with my feet propped up and leaning against the wall, while she reads me my bedtime story. (now that she's reading, she usually insists on reading the book herself. And she very successfully puts me just about to sleep most nights.)

So I was complaining about the impending cankles to Matt, and he smiled sympathetically and said, "I guess that's just what it takes to make a Lizzy!"

And somehow, with that simple sentence, he made it (almost) all better.