We went to the lake yesterday and floating was every bit as wonderful as I was hoping it would be. Although Child Person sure did make some strange shapes with my stomach as I was floating. I don't know if it was because we were both weightless or because I was holding myself differently than upright fighting gravity or what. Of course I couldn't be as active and frolic like I normally do in the water. Reduced range of motion in my mid-section and all. All the young Mexican mothers gave me "right on sister" looks as I walked along the beach in my belly bearing bikini. And one black woman even announced, "Don't you look cute!"

That's something I've noticed in the last couple of weeks; black women talk to me constantly now. I must have crossed some invisible barrier. These ladies come up to me out of nothing at the grocery store, at work, on the street, at the post office, in the bathroom. They always want to find out how I'm doing, how far along I am, and share their own stories of pregnancy. Or provide "advice". Or just tell me how cute my belly looks. It's hilarious and charming.

I did a lot of nursery prep this weekend. We bought some Dreft and I washed and put away just about everything that will touch Baby's skin. Clothes, new and hand-me-down, sheets, towels, wash cloths, bibs. I still have to do the blankets. And burp cloths when we get some--they are one of the very few items we didn't get. I have to admit I was bowled over by the adorableness of these tiny clothes. I was never a fan of babies. Toddlers, sure. But I know I'm going to love at least this one baby. I still suspect I'll end up like Miranda in Sex in the City: all kids but my own suck. Well, I'll modify it. All kids but my own, and those whose parents I know, suck.