last day in March...

I'm at the stage now where, if I spent a lot of time out in public, I should be able to comfortably sing Charlotte's name aloud on a regular basis. If asked by the man behind the laundry counter whether this is my first, I should be able to say with beautiful confidence, No, my fifth, and saunter out feeling proud of all my babies. And if it's a nice mother at the park, I would still say it's my fifth, and then counter her shocked expression with the sad truth that I only have three with me at home right now.

But it's still cold here, and supposed to snow again tomorrow, so I haven't been to the park since the fall. I don't go to the laundry, or really to many places at all, because I'm always juggling a sweet, small girl who needs naps and lots of time to play at home with driving the older two hither and yonder. In the past few weeks, as I have finally been able to downgrade my thick, puffy, life-jacketish down coat to a hefty fleece model, I have seen many faces of sudden surprise at my seemlingly sudden large belly. 32 weeks, and most of the world I live in didn't even know.

So go ahead, snow tomorrow. But then, please melt, and free me from these four walls and set me on the park to walk, and bask in the springtime sun, and speak her name out loud.