Mom's first post of me ..

Happily stolen from Mom's blog :) ..

Earth calling Cimot

When I first found out that you were here, I was naturally still sitting on the porcelain goddess and remained there speechless for few more seconds. It was a big surprise for me, and I think for your dad too because he blinked few times before asking the unnecessary question, “How do you know?”*. Then lots of questions came to my mind, one was if I qualified for the job. After all, I’m not know as a person who keeps her house organized, or prepares healthy breakfast-lunch-dinner for your dad, or wakes up with a big smile before the sun rises.
*Answer: the sky cracked open and an angel sang to me. Duh! :roll:

Putting that aside, of course I love having you here although I can’t see or feel you yet. The only thing I can feel now are the gas, the acid, and the hunger attacks which make me cranky most of the time, but at least that means you are healthy. Oh, I’m sure that will pass soon and I will turn into one of those glowing mom-to-be often seen in books and magazines (God, that’s your hint. Please?). Your dad, on the other hand, is coping better and has been a great help so far. Occasionally he still makes remarks that warrant icy cold stares from me but most of the time he keeps his mouth shut and just nods in sympathy whenever I complain. Many times he bravely ventures into the darkness of the night to grab me some midnight snacks from the fridge, and he makes sure food is available on the table when I come home from work. Perhaps he’s more afraid of the consequences if I’m not fed on time. One day you’ll find out yourself that a combination of hormones and hunger attacks is known to be lethal for many husbands. Trust me on that. However, his back and foot massage skills are not yet proven and tested although I don’t put high hopes on that.

Right now you are still so small but when we went for a test a couple of days ago, we saw your 5 little toes though the tummy cam! And 2 weeks ago you even waved at us in the doctor’s office. Well, Aunt Ria said you might have given us a finger instead of waving but again, I choose to see the bright side. It will still be few weeks until we know what to call you but for now your name is Cimot. No complain, ok? Like I said, we’ll give you a better name as soon as we find out whether you are an, uh, inny or an outy. Aunt Gita has also nicknamed you Pandamini, which reminds me of a certain public transportation in my hometown. Soon, too, you will be able to hear us from your bubble home in there so I’ve been nagging at your dad to brush up his non-existent singing skill starting now. So far he responds by changing the conversation topics so I guess I have to do the singing part myself. Too bad because without comparison, I can’t boast that I sing much better than him. You just have to trust me as well on that. He is, however, very good at impersonating Tazmanian Devil and a blowfish. I’ll let you hear the Taz later but you need to wait until you are out for the blowfish. It never fails to crack me up.