It snowed A LOT here last night. Tons of that powdery driving snow that gets picked up in the wind and blown into drifts against cars that couldn’t get enough traction to get around our corner. We did what any red blooded American parents would do in such an event; We layered our kid in denim and fleece with socks for mittens and dragged him outside to appreciate it.

When we head for the elevator, he always books it after us, like we might not let him push the buttons….

I remember last year when we took him outside for the very first time, in the snow. I think we were wearing the same outfits as last year.

I put them both in wooly caps. Aaron was much better about keeping his on.

Finally the cold got to be a bit much, what with the driving wind and all. This look pretty much tells you how Caden felt about it. The big blue blur in the left bottom corner is his pointing finger, encased in a blue sock/mitten substitute.

You can check out facebook for the full album. I highly recommend you go back and see the pics from when we took him out in the snow LAST year. They, and he, are adorable.

I am working very slowly on a very small painting. I don’t know why it’s taking me so long. I get one inspired layer laid down and suddenly, 10 minutes later, inspiration lifts and I am forced to set my brushes aside or ruin what I’ve been working on.

Nothing ruins a painting faster or more thoroughly than fidgeting with it when you know you shouldn’t. Sometimes it’s better to just walk away in the proper time and come back to it later.

Many things in life are like that.

Cooking (just one more spice!)
Arguments (just one last word!)
etc.

I find myself lately, during my daily routine, compelled to stop and pray. I had to set aside a book today because I felt the need to pray. I honestly don’t know even what I am praying for sometimes. Oh sure it’s house stuff, and raising a baby stuff, and being wifely stuff and honoring my husband stuff and please Lord let me get this baby out without tearing anything open…. Ok that last bit was a tad too much info, but you get the point.

The point is this: As my sister often reminds me, “If God cares about everything, then he cares about anything.” And who am I to argue logic with my sister the math and logic genius? Sometimes I don’t pray about something that matters to ME because I don’t see why it would matter to Him. But I matter, and therefore, so must my things. Right?

Point being the house got dusted and the kitchen scrubbed and the baby fed 3 large meals and I worshipped the Lord in the midst of it. Or at least, tried to remember that I CAN worship in the midst of it.

Also, I ate a full serving of green vegetables today, which is miraculous, as I find them repugnant. My midwives demand I eat them.

I may be taking these steps small and slow, but at the end of the day, if everything matters, then anything matters.

Ugh, I can’t wait for poor Caden to be done teething. This poor little guy is wandering around, following me everywhere, crying the entire time he’s awake. He won’t chew on things, I don’t want to give him Tylenol because it doesn’t seem to help…. ugh. I feel so bad for him! We think we can feel at LEAST 4 molars. Maybe more. He’s like some sort of tooth popping machine!

What we can do is hold him lots, let him snack on Puffs, try to give him things to chew on to ease the pain (so far the handle of the lint roller and Aaron’s old toothbrush are favorites) and pray pray pray. Pray for him. Pray for us.

Yesterday all the besties came over to make holiday cookies and watch White Christmas. Joanna and I made those little Russian tea cakes with the powdered sugar that turned out LOVELY. I then made fudge that turned out pale. Yes, I made whitie fudge. I mean it’s chocolate, but it’s PALE. I have no idea. Making candy of any sort usually turns out to be a spectacular failure in my kitchen. I’m just glad it tastes ok. Not great, but ok. I need a better fudge recipe if anyone has one?

Today Aaron is out ho ho ho’ing. That’s family code for buying Christmas presents. I am very glad he brought me coffee first, as it gives me enough energy to read “My Little Ladybug” for the 1000th time. I have it memorized, which makes the reading while Caden turns the pages much easier. Who knew being a good memorizer would come in so handy?

I got paid today for painting my first custom pedal for www.jhspedals.com! Wow, it does my heart good to do something I LOVE, and support the family at the same time. I loved loved loved painting something that was going to be a gift for someone, that that person would look at and cherish and think “wow, this was made JUST for me!” It’s a really cool feeling, I can’t wait to work on the next project for these guys.

Mom bought our tickets yesterday for Aaron, Caden and I to travel to Seattle to celebrate vacation and belated Christmas. I can’t wait to get there and spend time with the family, and relax, and let Caden get some serious grandparents and auntie time. I get so excited I cry whenever I think about it! Not only that but *sing Handel’s HALLELUJAH chorus here* we are flying non stop BOTH WAYS! ON MIDWEST! WHERE YOU GET COOKIES! Thanks mom and dad, what a gift!

Pray none of us get sick on the plane, as we have in the past. Healthy flight please Lord!

I’ll leave you with this:

Things about going home that make me so excited I could weep:
My family! (even the cat)
The pantry (it’s a room FULL OF FOOD.)
The quiet time all sitting around reading or doing little projects
Doing a dual painting with my sister, who is a fabalous artist
Taking my dad out to lunch at Spuds (best fish and chips ever) as a belated birthday present for him
Showing Caden Pike Place Market, and getting his picture on the pig
Aaron and Meghan (my sister) going on outings together (they love to hang out, and I love that)
Naps
Extra loving family hands to help with Squeaker
Shopping with mom and sissy
Seeing the Union Hill folks
RESTING.

I’m so happy I could spit. Spit in a happy way.

What you are going to read today is something called “The Letter Game”. It operates on the basic principle of two characters, separated for some reason, writing letters to one another. Meghan (my sister) and I decided to play together as a way to pass time and work out our writing muscles. So bookmark both my blog and hers and prepare for the adventure.

Dr. Kalia Cain
International Genetics Lab
Security Level Ultra-Magic
*encrypted*
via E.S. Sumpter

Salutations dear friend,

My many apologies for the delay in writing you. It’s been a busy week to say the least. I always mean to write more frequently (and after I’d given you the mini-lecture not to leave me letter-less) but by the time I make it to bed I can barely keep my eyes open long enough to turn out the light, much less be civil to Garvey and level headed enough to write a letter.

I swear to you Kalia, sometimes it feels like I’m the mother of a million toddlers. Just when I think I’m getting promoted and life will be EASIER, suddenly I’m RESPONSIBLE for things. Who knew the alter-day bridge crew was going to be so nit-picky about their food!? I sent up some sandwiches the other night, just little cucumber nibblies to show off my hydroponics, and instead of thanking me for growing something with vitamins they complained about the lack of dill. Honestly, a few re-run shows on cuisine and everyone’s a critic! Ah well, I’m lucky to be in space, much less serving bridge crew, much less having the honor of reheating their hot chocolate milk because it cooled from 180-175 on the way up to the bridge!

Alright, let me tackle all the questions in your letter so I can get back to my whinging in peace… As far as “earning” the locker purge duties, I volunteered. I know, ew, but honestly in a ship like this alone time is precious. I’m happy to spend the hours it takes to purge the meat lockers, by hand, with an acetalyne torch, because it’s just me and so blessed quiet! (Re-read the bit about working with a bunch of brats!). Plus it has to be a woman anyway. Don’t ask me why, I think the monks like the idea of having a woman do the dirty work. “Unclean! Unclean!” and all that. I plan to leave an aura of feminine superiority in there, if I can manage it.

You mustn’t despair about your work, sister. Who knows what the Plague could mutate into over time? It could become much more than a mostly harmless divider of who can go to space, and who can not. What if someone slips the Plague screenings and snuck on board a ship?! Gawds can you imagine the anarchy? That would give Security something to do I guess. Soon you’ll be done with the screenings and you can move onto the research for which you were hired. Right? Don’t forget there is life beyond the Plague-typing of every individual on planet. Soon all those left behind are going to want a cure so they can go to space and get whinged at about sandwiches too.

I keep remembering those Plague-victim pictures they showed us in training, to scare away anyone clever enough or stupid enough to slip the screens. I still have nightmares. I’m assuming as a bio-chemist you’ve had to see the real thing at some point. How do you stand it?

New less disgusting topic: I am so glad you’re taking cooking lessons! What fun! Let me know how she teaches you to make scrambled eggs, for you can tell the caliber of chef you’re dealing with by their scrambled eggs. I have taken a few of the kitchen juniors under my wing, mostly because cooking is meant to be done in a group, not alone in a galley. They do quite well, when they aren’t brandishing peelers at one another and making swooshing laser noises.

I found Lars in the gym, and instead of approaching him directly to inquire about his memories of you, I simply waited until he asked to use a piece of equipment I was working with and demanded “the password”. He turned positively crimson, and recognized you in my face instantly. Interestingly enough, he says we have the same mouth? I couldn’t let well enough alone, and instantly replied “must have known her mouth pretty well.” He took my joshing like a man, and asked to be remembered to you. I told him I’d write and tell you he hadn’t aged a day and has quite a nice mouth himself. Possibilities? Fair trade, since you stole my favorite sweatshirt.

The purple one you sent is lovely by the way. I wear it to sleep to annoy Garvey, who thinks we should be rank and file about everything. Silly man sleeps in his issued pajamas, and ‘verse only knows how he stands wearing feeties at night. Ugh. Like a giant sleeping bag made to trap you in a cocoon of cheap fabric. Though they do have nice built in clips in case you hit an unscheduled Pass at night. Not a whole lot to clip down when you’re only in a purple sweatshirt. At least I don’t have to deal with hair in my eyes anymore.

This week is mostly scrubbing, and I’m planning to try and plant carrots. I miss color, and find myself planting vegetables and fruits of alarmingly bright hues just to give my eyes a break from battleship gray and black.

How goes the restaraunt? Any new fun holidays this month there on-world worth mentioning? One thing I like about people being stuck on world is the government is trying so much harder to make it a nicer place to be, so the folks don’t mutiny! Oh and you never mentioned what questions you had about space? Or is it too sensitive a topic to talk about when you’re blue about work? Anyway, all my love,

Danika

Yeah I would be the person who is all like “whooo hoo we have internet now I can blog all the time” and then forget to blog because my son is cutting two molars at once and it’s not easy for him OR me.

But here I am. I owe my sister a continuation of our short story project, I owe you guys an update on what’s going on, I owe me some time to exercise my brain, and not just veg out under 4 comforters, praying for a nap.

So, here I am. It’s incredibly cold in our apartment bedroom, because we have two exposed walls (our apt’s on the corner.) Last night I ran the space heater for an hour in here, and it barely took the chill off.

During the winter we sleep with a big feather comforter and I sleep with another twin sized feather comforter in a plush cotton jersey duvet on top of that. Aaron doesn’t like the extra covers because he prefers to sleep with coolish feet. If my feet are cold, I literally can’t fall asleep. I also can’t sleep in socks. It’s a horrid Catch-22. I put a heating pad in my bed on high about half an hour before I’m going to go to sleep, to warm up a niche for my feet.

I’ve always loved reading about what people eat, so for anyone else like me, here’s what I’ve eaten today.
Breakfast:
Malt o Meal cereal with butter and brown sugar
a glass of ice cold milk
a piece of turkey (preggers needs our proteins!)

Lunch:
A tiny orange: I am a huge sucker for those little clementines and satsuma’s that are in season this time of year. Caden and I go through a bag every 5 days or so.
Havarti cheese, with a little mayo and seasoned roast beef on it, rolled up to look like clever appetizers.
– This was not quite enough lunch, but Caden decided to have a snooze, and I thought I’d better make a blog entry while the proverbial sun shines. I shall eat more when I am done here.

I am very thankful today that last time I was pregnant, even though it was in the summer, I for some reason acquired a sweatshirt that fit my rounder frame. As I have no real maternity clothes for winter, I am freezing. Especially in our chilly room, where the internet is. So I am wearing a tshirt I have that covers the belly, and my preggers sweatshirt.

Still praying for that perfect rental house.

Oh and pray for the Squeaker. True to Caden form, he is cutting two molars at once. This poor kid has never cut one tooth at a time, always two. Yesterday he followed me around for hours, whimpering, refusing food or being held, but simply wanting to lean on me all the time. Then he ate an enormous dinner of an entire orange, a bag of kashi crackers, and 6 marinated black olives and slept for 13 hours straight. Today he seems to be in less pain, but a little extra prayer never hurt.

Time for lunch round two. Two lunches, yes, that sounds like me.

As of, well right now, we have INTERNET. Officially! There is much rejoicing in the house of James. SO much so that I have exhausted myself and need to return to bed for a short snooze. I just wanted to let the blog world know I am back, and hopefully will be able to get back to posting on a Monday through Friday basis, with occasional blogs on the weekends when my housework is done and my child is a snoozer.

For now, please, gather round the modem with me and sing songs of rejoicing. I am thinking of lighting a tiny tea candle in front of it, to honor it’s presence in our home.

Not really.

LET’S HEAR YOU CHEER IT!

HIGH SPEED!

*frolic*

I hate to admit it, but my pants are too tight when I sit down. It’s time for the dreaded maternity jeans. Ugh.

I’ve made it to 21 weeks without busting out a single piece of maternity wear. Thats’ about 6 weeks longer than last time. Maybe that means I shall not be so rotund at the end this time around.

Currently I am sitting in my office, drinking coffee, facebooking and waiting for the phone to ring. I answer phones though, so that’s mostly why I am waiting for it to ring.

I am yearning to not just sit in my house, feeling like I’m passing the days waiting for life to start. It’s weird, when I’m home alone with Caden, I live to get to the next routine milestone. From bottle to breakfast, to nap to lunch to snack to bath to bed. I want to exist in the moment. I am having a hard time putting it into words. But it’s not like I can get out art stuff or read a book and just ignore Caden, so what to do? I also can not play with blocks for 6 hours. Maybe there are super moms out there that enjoy that, but I get brain fuzzes. Don’t judge.

Also, I have no idea how to wean my son off of bottles and onto cups. He understands cups, he knows how they work, he just doesn’t drink out of them. Argh.

I am frigidly cold. I thought being pregnant was supposed to make you warm all the time? It’s not working. My feet have never been colder. I feel like a Texan who moved to Missouri and doesn’t know what to do when the temp drops below 65.

My sister made it home last night from Wilmington to Seattle, and is probably resting comfortably in the bosom of her family as we speak. Did you know my parents have an entire room full of FOOD? They call it a “pantry.” I can not WAIT to see my family in January, and not just for the food room. Please pray that Caden doesn’t get sick on the plane.

I so enjoy the Christmas season, even though Missouri drivers go insane when it starts to snow. You think they’d be used to it.

This is very stream of consciousness, perhaps because my consciousness is sleepy.

Peace out.

What you are going to read today is something called “The Letter Game”. It operates on the basic principle of two characters, separated for some reason, writing letters to one another. Meghan (my sister) and I decided to play together as a way to pass time and work out our writing muscles. So bookmark both my blog and hers and prepare for the adventure. For Part one, check out Meghan’s blog. She’ll be posting on Tuesday’s, me on Wednesday’s or Thursday mornings. Enjoy

Letter one
Letter two
Letter three

Dr. Kalia Cain
International Genetics Lab
Security Level Ultra-Magic
*encrypted*
via E.S. Sumpter

Hello Kalikins from the Sumptious Sumpter! (chuckle chuckle)

An entire day is absolutely an absurd amount of time to get a letter to you, in any other time! The poor Colonel probably had to proofread the damn thing himself, and you know how he is with his dyslexia. Please remember dearling, that we are making multiple Pass Jumps with full cargo loads, and for normal people on this ship the lag is almost a week! Poor Garvey practically drools every time my terminal rings. I’ve started to offer to read the non-essential parts of your letters out loud, so the poor dear doesn’t get so surly. After re-reading your last letter silently to myself for almost an hour to avoid him, he “accidentally” spilled the last of my vanilla shampoo whilst storming about with our lockers in a fit of temper, and I take solace in the fact he may have poured it all out, but now our whole bunk smells like vanilla! Hah!

And please, Dr. Cain, be aware I have been promoted after a week of doing desserts and snacks for the bridge crew, and am no longer lowly mid-level cook. I am now Assistant Executive Chef to the Executive Command Team, Alter-Shift. I may be able to give you a more accurate report on the windows in the Captain’s room sooner than we thought! More importantly I can now flex my other-course muscles, instead of little nibblies and chocolates.

Before I forget, one of my doses looks slightly as if it’s going off, kind of green-ish with some settling at the bottom. Is this batch you sent with me fresh, or did I get a weirdling specimen or something? Is it safe to take? I hate to skip a dose. We’re docking after two more Passes, so perhaps you could send a replacement ahead to the station if necessary? Also please send my sweatshirt. I know you hid it while I was packing and are probably wearing it right now. Now you’ll have to pay the shipping charge, serves you right.

I am so glad to hear ma cherie’, the restaraunt is in one piece and thriving. Especially glad to hear Herr VdG is focusing on his desserts instead of dipping into the till via Angelo’s soft spot for a sob story. Angelo would hand out money to the Empress herself if she told him she was poor, and kept a straight face whilst doing it!

Speaking of the 3 hairbrushes you sent with me, I have news. It had to happen eventually, and they told those of us in Basic who posessed long hair that after a third Pass or so, we’d be begging to shave our heads. I was the only hold out who didn’t shave it all off while we were still on-world. You know how long it’s been since I cut my hair, but I couldn’t stand one more Pass, pinned down, with hair tendrils wafting up my nose. I had Garvey shave my head. Now I fit in with everyone else, though it was sad to consign all that hair to the incinerator. Garvey was postively gleeful about scalping me, it was almost disturbing. My scalp looks quite smoothly egg-like, and now I don’t have to be sad Garvey disposed of all my shampoo.

As for cargo, no, nothing for Katari this Pass. Though we ARE hitting Katari here at some point, so guess who’s going to have to blow-torch the ENTIRE MEAT LOCKER, then dance about with the kosher salt? Yes. Me. We have some weird things in storage I don’t have clearance to access, and the rest of the cargo is books made of PAPER. Honestly, it’s no wonder they’re dancing on eggshells about the security this Pass-’round. Paper. It’s downright terrifying. Paper!

Since I have only two outfits to wear, (bridge uniform and non-bridge uniform) I am of the opinion you should buy something swanky and save your uniform for the Spacers Ball when I get home, so we can match(ish). How about that deep blue velvet off the shoulder thingee with the long slit up the hem that we saw modeled last time we were out? If you ‘waved your hair to have those red-gold highlights and quick-coated your eyes to match the velvet, I think you’d look Divine. Those poor soldiers see enough dames in uniform. I say let’em appreciate a fine pair of legs in something other than military stripes! I left my stiletto’s behind that you like, feel free to borrow them. (As if you aren’t already making free with my clothes, sweatshirt swiper!)

I feel like I’ve been spending this whole letter answering questions, and am practically panting with the effort. Next time I’ll get a word in edge-wise! I feel a bit odd talking about Space, especially knowing you’ll never get to go. What would you like to hear? I don’t want to hurt your feelings bragging on things you’ll never experience, you know? Especially after you practically shoved me in the airlock so I would go myself! Just let me know, as I long to share all with you, but am trying to be sensitive about your feelings.

I am certainly lonely for you. The girls onboard are nice, but mostly navigators and a tad odd. I’m glad you made our soup, it is nice to feel missed. I keep having to flip over to your letter to re-read it and once I thought I forgot to save this one and got a little sick. Still not used to air-terminal typing. All this phantom flailing about is odd.

Lovely Lars! Yes! I have met him! He shares a bunk with one of the lowly midlevel cooks I’ve befriended named Risa. He saved my stripes when the Captain called for spiced tea and I got lost on the way to the bridge. Poor man found me practically in tears and ushered me topside like a champ. We’re an informal ship below-bridge, so of course he doesn’t know my last name, I’ll find him and tell him I’m your sister and see how he reacts. Wait. How will he react?

As for your red headed Force friend, I’ve not met her yet. If she’s Force, then she’s Security probably, and I don’t see much of them. Except getting the stink eye from one when I was blubbering around with the Captains’ rapidly cooling tea. I’ll ask around but they generally keep to themselves in the gym for long grueling sounding hours.

Argh, some worthless moron has spilled an entire nights risotto in the kitchen, and now I have to give up my rest time to go in and re-make it all in time for main day dinner. I would have made this longer but must run and mop up. Argh!

Love from a now-Italian-Rice-covered-Spaceship,
Danika

What you are going to read today is something called “The Letter Game”. It operates on the basic principle of two characters, separated for some reason, writing letters to one another. Meghan (my sister) and I decided to play together as a way to pass time and work out our writing muscles. So bookmark both my blog and hers and prepare for the adventure. For Part one, check out Meghan’s blog. She’ll be posting on Tuesday’s, me on Wednesday’s or Thursday mornings. Enjoy

Dr. Kalia Cain
International Genetics Lab
Security Level Ultra-Magic
*encrypted*
via E.S. Sumpter

Dearling Kalia,

Hello from the very smoothly sailing Sumpter! So glad the Colonel could help you get some letters out, he was so thankful for what I did he was begging me to tell him how I could repay him! Asking for unlimited correspondence with you while I was gone was a stroke of genius, if I don’t say so myself. On your end I find it very odd to be passing correspondence through your office! I still don’t get why a diagnostic lab has such high security clearances?

Yes, haha, my belly button did NOT blow out during Pass Jump, praise the ‘verse. I’ll admit after the first Pass I did manage to slip my right hand restraint long enough to check to make sure I was still intact! Going through the Passes isn’t actually disruptive feeling at ALL and you definitely do not feel like you’re going to explode. I was expecting some sort of science fiction blurring of physical matter, or a weird moment where the stars all streak and you feel like silly putty, but really all it does is make one feel slightly thankful you’re pinned down to something. And it musses your hair.

Thanks loads for caring for the cat. The cactus is kinder, I know. He’s a pain, but he’s needy, and Angelo has plenty on his hands running the restaraunt while I’m gone. One really can’t expect a sous-chef-now-executive-chef like Angelo to have time to spare for special needs cats. He’ll have his hands full drinking himself into a stupor to help override the panic of what I’ll do to him if my restaurant loses any Michelin stars while I’m gone. I told him he’s got three years before I’ll see if it’s tanked, so he better start dreaming up amuse’ bouches and praying for the liquor delivery to be timely!

Cheers on the lovely sounding lab, sounds much better than that last place you worked! Let’s hear it for rooms with a view and being a woman in demand. My views are all through screens, which is nice but not quite the same as windows. I hear it told the captain’s bedroom has a panoramic view made of high pressure something or other (I’m a cook for cripes sake, not a scientist so don’t ask me to explain) that shows the real-time view. But with no plans to get into the captain’s bedroom anytime soon, I’ll just have to depend on rumor.

Romantic stories about space are as follows: I spent the first day on ship impressing everyone with cheese sandwiches because I couldn’t figure out where we stored all the meat. Turns out it was in a locker 4 decks below where it was supposed to be, and by the time I found the suckers I couldn’t spare an able body to drag 3 or 4 cows up from deep freeze, much less have time to turn them into something edible. Sigh.

My room is nice, and I share it with a very red headed man named Garvey. I know, sharing a tiny room. With a man. A strange man! Remember how long it took me to allow Giorgio a pass into that apartment you and I had? Ugh, but on a ship this packed we can’t spare the space to be picky about room-mates. It’s funny to think how high demand it is to be Plague-resistant, get on a ship and Go Somewhere. If only more Earthers knew the true glamor of space mostly involves figuring out shower time and hunting the ship for frozen meat. Anyway, back to room sharing. There is much eye averting and burying of one’s self behind letters. So for ‘verse sake don’t forget to write! Also, another one of those lovely pictures of you and me at my graduation would be nice for the blank wall. Just send the file with your next letter (yay again to the Colonel).

Speaking of things I left behind that you have, did you notice I left you that recipe book in your drop box? I put all your favorites, did you see it? I thought it might help you to not be lonely if you could cook yourself something that would remind you of us cooking. I’ve been exercising and taking my doses like I promised you I would. You should see some of the people who skip their workouts and who can’t afford to dose. Ick. Wonder what they will look like by the time we get back?

I know we argued a bit about it before I left, but I want you to know I’m glad you talked me into spacing. I’ve always known I could cook anywhere, and you haven’t really cooked until you have 60 people who just came off shift staring daggers at your half laid out buffet while you sweat with a wrench over a faulty pilot light. It’s an adventure and I’ve shattered every one of my fingernails. But, I pulled off a perfect custard for dessert, and on a Pass Jump ship that’s really saying something! Egg yolks, it seems, are as tempermental on ship as they are on world. As a scientist I hope you are appreciating the chemistry.

It’s been hard, leaving you behind. Keep busy, GO OUTSIDE and don’t forget to not water the cactus.

Any new books out about you know what? Don’t forget the picture! Oh also, what happened to Hank? I never got to hear the end of the story?

P.S. We watched Ultimate tennis a week ago, I wonder if I could have spotted you in the crowd!

All my love and kiss the cat,

Danikins

Just want everyone to know, we had our sonogram today. It was a WAY nice place, with rows of seats, and two gi-GANTIC tv’s. The sonographer clearly wasn’t going to win any awards for her personality, but oh well.

WE found out the important thing. Baby is healthy and posesses all the necessary anatomical parts for healthy humans.

Best part?

We’re having a darling, beautiful, healthy, adorable baby…………

BOY!!!

hooray! And we rejoice to be welcoming another great baby. Let the great name debate begin!