Answers to the questions I have been asked repeatedly this week are as follows:
Paint colors are thus:
Foyer, hall, family room, etc. - Duron "Familiar Beige"
Playroom - Duron "Livable Green"
Dining room - Ralph Lauren "Balmoral Red"
Master bedroom - Duron "Austere Gray"
Upstairs bathroom (which I didn't show you but Chris did) - Duron "Lantern Light"
Nursery - Duron "Meditative"
Mia's room - Duron "Wisteria"
No, sorry, there is no new address to which you can send Christmas cards. We try hard not to give out our address at all (or at least I try hard and yell at Chris about it a lot), we almost never used the box we had other than Christmas and it cost too much for three weeks of use a year, and I got paranoid that, while I was hiding my home address, I was still providing an address at which I could be certain to be found several times a week. Yes, I'm paranoid, and yes, anyone who really wanted to find us could probably do it, but I try to further that hypothetical cause as little as possible.
And I'm bummed about it, because I absolutely loved exchanging cards with all of you last year and was thrilled every time I went to our box and found another couple of cards to admire and also liked whenever someone came to our house and saw the massive stack of cards on the coffee table because it made me feel really popular. So, bummed, but just isn't gonna happen this year.
We don't need much for this baby and in fact I have been fighting tooth and nail against a baby shower that keeps trying to organize itself because hey, isn't that tacky? When did that supposedly stop being tacky, because I totally missed the memo. (And if you had a baby shower for your second or tenth or whatever hey, good for you, hope you loved it, you are clearly just better informed or more evolved than I am, no need to send me more hate mail.) However, I think it is also rude to be faced with someone who genuinely wants to do something to mark an event in your life and refuse to allow them to do so. Therefore, if you are so graciously inclined as to feel the urge to do something to mark the birth of my second child, I humbly suggest a donation to the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia in memory of Jake. If that doesn't cut it for you, I do have a very small registry and I'll post a link to it just as soon as I figure out a way to do so without telling the entire internet where I live (see paranoia, above).
Unrelated to the above, it totally weirds me out to be, say, beached on the couch watching Survivor, and notice that my entire abdomen is hopping and heaving and shimmying like I have a couple of energetic squirrel monkeys trapped in there doing the rumba. Let's take a chill pill, Fetus, shall we? You're giving Mama the heebie-jeebies.