My son is an angel. This weekend, anyway. We got up early and went to the Children's Museum in downtown St. Paul. He was self directed but receptive to my suggestions for activities, he walked from and to the car on his own, and was, in general, a joy to be with.

I have been fascinated with his communication development since he was born, but especially so since he began to use signs and words. He is becoming very articulate and has what seems to me to be an advanced ability to put things into their correct context. I wish I knew more about the science behind language and brain development. He has always used a single sound to mean more than one thing - for example. "Ca-ga" is clock, quack, and cracker. "Ba-ba" is bottle and ball. "Seep" is chip and sip and sheep. "Wi-oo" is Ripple and William. And he is completely aware of the difference in what he means based on context. Its just fascinating. I love that he actively/independently uses the sign for thank-you and the word "sorry" (sa-wa).

I read a newspaper article the other week about how recent studies have shown that boys with involved fathers (meaning fathers that ACTIVELY care-give, not just co-habitate in the same house) are less agressive than boys without involved fathers, and that this negates what was (apparently - I'd never heard it) a common fear that if a father is too involved with his children it would make them agressive. (?!?) Additionally, girls who have involved fathers do better in school and have higher measures of self-esteem than girls without involved fathers. Obviously, the part of me that champions the lifestyle choices Steve and I have chosen for ourselves (ie Steve staying home with Will) is thrilled to hear those types of results. On the other hand, I worry that those studies are used to "prove" that single parents or same sex-parents are doomed. Because I profoundly don't believe that they are.

We went out to dinner tonight. Together. All 3 of us. At a real restaurant. And Will did wonderfully. It was such a treat.

Today I feel huge. That seems to happen every several weeks, where my girth must expand just enough to make me have to re-think myself in space and in relationship to objects. I remember this with Will - its a very strange feeling to have your body "suddenly" NOT end where you expect it to end, so you bump into things and have re-calibrate all those subconscious messages that tell you where you are in space.

I'm going to be scheduling Turtle's c-section birth for the week of Christmas - probably the day after Christmas. There is a small chance we'll schedule it for the week before, but I'm actually thinking the week of is a great idea: a) Will will get a Christmas w/out his little sister, b) my folks & siblings will be in town so we'll have extra hands, c) I'll have to be in the hospital for at least 2 nights anyway and won't be able to be very active afterwards, so I'd rather have that after Christmas than before and during. I'll know for sure in October.

I've been experience some career soul-searching that I want to write about, but I'll save that for another day.