womb patty cake

It's gotta be hormonal. I have a magnetic draw from my rump to the glider chair and my fingers can't stop fussing away at his cute little clothes. In the morning I get up and can't help but wander in there. I've read his books to him while gliding in our rocker. I've rearranged and cleaned all of his little outfits. I've set up the monitor (where J can make surprisingly realistic crying noises that make me smile). Someone asked me yesterday if I set up the crib yet... uh yeah, months ago. How couldn't I help getting all that going by now?! The other question is do you feel him moving yet... uh, yeah, I have a break dancing baby that only occasionally sticks his wiggle toes into my lungs so I can't breathe. Our favorite little game is womb patty cake. I actually read about this online somewhere. It's an "opportunity to engage your child and help his development" - uh ok, that may be overstating it, but it does make me happy when I high five him and he wacks me back. We play the pip-likes-to-push game (I can't wait until he can pull too) and he responds sometimes with bigger punches than expected. I've had numerous kicks where I saw toes. Tough belly becomes a wave machine after a good dose of yogurt. It's fun to watch J play too and when I hear him say, "oh, woah, "... I can't help but light up.