I realize that, in general, this blog is about Fraser but, as the blog will soon be about both my children, and as I am pregnant (some might say very pregnant) with our second child I don't think this particular post should be considered off topic. Today I was at our monthly membership circle for my Mom's club and there was a new member in attendance. She is very very nice and I don't intend this story to be critical of her in any way since her daughter is only a few months old and if things happen to come out of her mouth without thinking I will blame it on the sleep deprivation and hope someone would do the same for me.

So, as we are all standing around chatting and watching the kids wreak havoc she turns to me and says "Wow, you must be due anytime now!" Um, actually I am due in December. That's right folks, I'm not even in my third trimester yet thank you very much. So, I have included a picture of myself here (taken last weekend) to show that I at least believe I in no way look like I am carrying twins, or a hippo, and although I will be the first to admit I do carry a bit "large" so to speak, I hardly think that someone should imagine they are about to see a baby protruding out of me at any moment. I guess I should just be happy she let it go at that and didn't choose to make some comment about how I must be having a girl because my ass is so huge. Thank God for small favors.

On a more Fraser related topic, here is Fraser driving the tractor, his new favorite hobby in the entire world. If I thought for a moment that Fraser's physical resemblance to his father didn't necessarily mean he would share every single one of his father's interests and hobbies (and consequently none of mine) the past month has soundly put that theory to bed. Fraser is still obsessed with anything with a wheel, though tractors and very large trucks are by far the best in his opinion. He now says "DAW" with enthusiasm whenever the dogs are barking though there is some debate whether he is (a) trying to say dog (b) barking back at the dogs or (c) mimicking his parents and trying to tell the dogs to shut the hell up. He does not say "cat" or anything cat related and is generally most interested in trying to bite the cats or pull their fur out. (Though I have no proof that Andy has ever bitten our cats or intentionally pulled their fur out, I believe Fraser's behavior currently indicates a canine preference which he certainly doesn't get from me.)

I choose, however, to hold out some hope that Fraser may yet decide to branch out into more "mommy" related areas of interest. I'm not saying he needs to become a devout Jane Austen fan (not anytime soon at least) or even develop a taste for spunky British comedy. I would be perfectly happy if he would just sit still for an entire story that doesn't involve the wheels on the bus or mommy barking like 10 different kinds of dogs. It's not a big dream, it's a just little dream, but I will cling to it much as I cling to the dream that Kiwi cannot possibly be tractor obsessed too. It's not that I think the tractor sickness isn't powerful enough to run from father down through multiple children, but that I don't know how much tractor talk one woman can be expected to endure in one lifetime.