Boot to the Head

The Bobs are doing just fine, according to Dr. P's report at yesterday's check-up. The ultrasound results from last week show that both boys are growing at pretty much the same rate, so I'm happy about that. My blood pressure is completely back to normal, so we've decided it was a little blip in time and I can stop thinking about it for now.

I was telling Dr. P how these little buggers seem to know when I say to someone "Oh! They're kicking, put your hand here!" because they immediately cease all movement. Apparently her little person does exactly the same thing. But last night, Mark came home and was treated to an incredible performance of strength and stamina from his boys, the likes of which we've never seen or felt before. My stomach was bouncing all over the place. I would say the show went on for about half an hour at least before we decided to turn out the light. They kept right on going though as we tried to sleep. At one point when Mark had his hand on my stomach, he leaned over and said into the bellybutton intercom, "Boys. This is your father speaking. What are you doing to your poor mother?" He got kicked in the mouth for his efforts. Although I think this could be because he was talking to them in the tones of James Earl Jones in Star Wars, so maybe they thought he was an imposter.

Anyway, I think this style of kicking marks a new stage in their development - they're clearly getting bigger and stronger and are having fun in there. Either that or they're boiling and are trying to knock through some ventilation. I know why they say you have "a bun in the oven" - I think I'm so hot that I'm cooking the poor little things. Mark says I feel like a furnace when I hold his hand or touch his arm. Imagine what the inside must be like!