According to something called iVillage, the chooch is the size of a "chicken cutlet". Personally, I find this comparison terribly upsetting. I could stomach exotic fruit analogies (starfruit, lychee, kiwi), or something like a star wars figure or iron fist - but the cutlet reference really got me worked up. I suppose "pork chop" sounds cute, I don't want to snuggle up to something that's boneless, flat, yellow and slimy.
I got my list of names going - Ram / Bolt / Cutter / Stack - if it's a boy, of course. Girl names are tougher. Toying with "Thunder" and "Sleet". Beav seems to have some opinions on the subject, but she's letting me run point on this front at the moment. I think we find out the sex in three weeks. I've already cleared the calendar.
The baby bump has now eclipsed my own Joey, thank heavens. It was touch and go there for a while.
Beav still not eating my pickles. So much for that myth.
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