Eggs...
Breakfast...
Lamb cake!!!
Happy Easter!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
I haven't mentioned anything baby-related on here so far because, honestly, there hasn't been much to tell. Besides some typical aches and pains and crankiness, I feel good, the baby is cooking and healthy, and we're just going about our every day routine.
But for those of you who are very much interested in baby news (and I know you're out there), this one's for you.
Yesterday we had a doctor's appointment, and they're usually pretty standard. Heartbeat, check. Feeling okay, check. Any questions? No? See you in four weeks. But this time was our 20 week appointment (early by a few days, but whatever) and it comes with bells and whistles, namely an ultrasound where they take all sorts of measurements, check out the organs, make sure everything is developing properly, and tell you the sex of the baby if they can see it and they're in a good mood and willing to tell you.
So, Otis (our name for the baby until it arrives) is perfectly healthy. Looked great in every way, but it was a little difficult to find out the sex because the little bugger kept its legs crossed and then actually put its hand in front of its crotch to keep us from seeing. Seriously. The whole time, the hands were up by the the head and waving around and then when we went to look at whether Otis is a boy or girl, boom, hand covering the area. The ultrasound lady couldn't show us the goods at that point, but she could point out all five fingers of the hand. Thanks, baby.
And some ultrasound photos for you to squint at. The first one is the whole baby, second is the flexing arm, third is just plain creepy looking with the arms and face.
Oh, and it's a boy! And no, you can't see it in any of these pictures, so don't squint that hard at them.
But for those of you who are very much interested in baby news (and I know you're out there), this one's for you.
Yesterday we had a doctor's appointment, and they're usually pretty standard. Heartbeat, check. Feeling okay, check. Any questions? No? See you in four weeks. But this time was our 20 week appointment (early by a few days, but whatever) and it comes with bells and whistles, namely an ultrasound where they take all sorts of measurements, check out the organs, make sure everything is developing properly, and tell you the sex of the baby if they can see it and they're in a good mood and willing to tell you.
So, Otis (our name for the baby until it arrives) is perfectly healthy. Looked great in every way, but it was a little difficult to find out the sex because the little bugger kept its legs crossed and then actually put its hand in front of its crotch to keep us from seeing. Seriously. The whole time, the hands were up by the the head and waving around and then when we went to look at whether Otis is a boy or girl, boom, hand covering the area. The ultrasound lady couldn't show us the goods at that point, but she could point out all five fingers of the hand. Thanks, baby.
And some ultrasound photos for you to squint at. The first one is the whole baby, second is the flexing arm, third is just plain creepy looking with the arms and face.
Oh, and it's a boy! And no, you can't see it in any of these pictures, so don't squint that hard at them.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Pop Quiz
How do you know it is spring time in the Netherlands?
A) Tulips, tulips, everywhere
B) Sunshine
C) Packs of children riding their bikes in front of your car
D) The smell of thawing dog poop
A) Tulips, tulips, everywhere
B) Sunshine
C) Packs of children riding their bikes in front of your car
D) The smell of thawing dog poop
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Playing Hooky
Every Sunday morning, we get up and walk the dogs and then head to church. Since we don't speak Dutch, our church options are pretty limited so we end up at the chapel on the base. It's not so bad, I guess. But it's not so great either. The priest is a wonderful, genuinely caring person, but he has a tendency to start out, "My dear friends..." and then talk for an eternity and then talk a little bit more, and then he finishes with a summary of all the things he talked about. Every Sunday is like a little taste of eternal life, but not the good kind. It's definitely not hell, either, but maybe purgatory.
So occasionally we just need to play hooky, and last Sunday was one of those days. So we walked the dogs, gave them some rawhide bones, and guiltlessly left them as we headed off to Maastricht for brunch. A friend had introduced me to a neat place where they actually have a working mill with a cute bakery attached to it where you can get breads or dessert and a coffee and tea.
And they have a lunch deal where they bring you a basket of rolls and an assortment of meats, cheese, jam and butter, so we thought it would be a perfect little brunch.
The first order of business, however, was picking up a Sunday newspaper. One of the things we really miss about living in the U.S. is lazy Sunday mornings with breakfast and a newspaper. It's really hard to find any place that is even open to sell us a newspaper on Sunday, much less a place that sells newspapers in English. We did successfully find a Sunday Times (a British paper) and set off in search of our food.
After we got to the bakery and ordered, they may have actually forgotten our order, leaving us sitting there reading ridiculous articles about how Brits drink even more than Russians and 500 pages about Prince Harry in Afghanistan,
but eventually we got our food and it was goooood.
We don't know what kind of jam this was, but the fruit on the picture looked happy. And it was pretty tasty. So tasty in fact, that we didn't get any other pictures until...
Afterwards, we walked around Maastricht for a little while, looked at some shops, met a bunch of geese and then headed home. It was a pretty great Sunday morning. Wish we could play hooky every week, but getting smited by God might put a damper on our brunchy fun.
So occasionally we just need to play hooky, and last Sunday was one of those days. So we walked the dogs, gave them some rawhide bones, and guiltlessly left them as we headed off to Maastricht for brunch. A friend had introduced me to a neat place where they actually have a working mill with a cute bakery attached to it where you can get breads or dessert and a coffee and tea.
And they have a lunch deal where they bring you a basket of rolls and an assortment of meats, cheese, jam and butter, so we thought it would be a perfect little brunch.
The first order of business, however, was picking up a Sunday newspaper. One of the things we really miss about living in the U.S. is lazy Sunday mornings with breakfast and a newspaper. It's really hard to find any place that is even open to sell us a newspaper on Sunday, much less a place that sells newspapers in English. We did successfully find a Sunday Times (a British paper) and set off in search of our food.
After we got to the bakery and ordered, they may have actually forgotten our order, leaving us sitting there reading ridiculous articles about how Brits drink even more than Russians and 500 pages about Prince Harry in Afghanistan,
but eventually we got our food and it was goooood.
We don't know what kind of jam this was, but the fruit on the picture looked happy. And it was pretty tasty. So tasty in fact, that we didn't get any other pictures until...
Afterwards, we walked around Maastricht for a little while, looked at some shops, met a bunch of geese and then headed home. It was a pretty great Sunday morning. Wish we could play hooky every week, but getting smited by God might put a damper on our brunchy fun.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
