Surprise Parties and Girl Kisses

I don't know if you guys have noticed the happy little baby slowly moving across the top of the screen towards goal 40, but she's almost there. Yeah, eighteen days left. The doctor says she could come anytime now, so my imagination has been running wild with labor scenarios. I was playing frisbee yesterday, and I thought: what if she decided now was a good time? Or in a movie theater? Or in line at the grocery store? Or on the walk back from Bed, Bath, and Beyond? I think it's kind of cool not knowing when she will come, like knowing someone has planned a surprise party for you but you don't know when; and every time you round a corner or walk in the front door you think, "Maybe it's right now. Maybe everyone is waiting to jump out in a second to yell, 'Surprise!'" I hope she actually yells, "Surprise!" when she comes. I also hope she comes with confetti and balloons. Small balloons.

Jason recently cleaned himself up: he shaved off all of his facial hair and he cut his hair. I feel like I just traded in my husband for a different one. I wonder if the neighbors will think I'm scandalous when they see me leave in a car with him, or when they see him come in at night and not leave until the morning. I'm so used to kissing a mustache that now I feel like I'm kissing a girl. I told him that, and now he thinks its so funny to torture me with weird girl kisses.