Apparently I am indeed considered 6 weeks and 3 days along as of today--despite the fact the kid sparked about four weeks ago, give or take. Which means I start seeing the midwife in a couple weeks, likely right before x-mas.
Due dates are slippery things, so I'm thinking in terms of the zodiac. The zodiac has good personality archetypes, but the birth date correlation is bogus--as a means of giving a general idea of due date I find the imprecision very pleasing. Something like 3% of folks give birth on the given due date, but I'll bet if you consider zodiacal periods you'd get the majority of the bell curve right on target.
So the kid's due sometime in the middle of Cancer (July 21st to August 11th), though if it goes longer, early Leo is a definite possibility.
Which confirms what I told FeldMom the other day when she showed me a pattern for a knitted baby hat and suggested the kid could wear it home from the birth center. "We're talking dog days of summer, mom. That would be cruel." I assured her it was darling, and the kid would wear it that coming winter.
*pauses to seize with squeeing over the idea of LITTLE! NOGGIN!*
Okay, I'm back. And to show you that at least I'm not alone in my occasional lapses into Ren Hoek-like fits of affection for something that, currently, looks more like a sea monkey than anything you'd let even sit on good couch, Mr. F dreamt about the kid the other night.
ME: Boy or girl? Just curious.
MR. F: I don't know, babies all look the same to me, I can never tell. But this one was *ours*, and hence far more interesting than the average.
We're finally even, him and I. When we were first dating I woke up in a cold sweat having dreamt of a little girl holding my hand who looked kind of like him. That's when I realized I was in trouble, that he wasn't just something fun to do for a while. Bwahahahaha! Take that! Your subconscious bows to my meme!
I need sleep. I need more than my own sleep, I need your sleep. Not all of it, just a small portion. If half of my flist tithed just one hit of the snooze, that'd be almost seven more hours of sleep. That could tide me over until Thursday, easily.
In other news,
thassalia and I are not writing "Bones" fic. More specifically, we're not writing cracktastic "Bones" fic with blatant sexual themes and anthropological in-jokes. At least, that's what Thea says. I'm considering sweetening the offer with beads, yams and an 8x11 beefcake shot of Milford Wolpoff.

Due dates are slippery things, so I'm thinking in terms of the zodiac. The zodiac has good personality archetypes, but the birth date correlation is bogus--as a means of giving a general idea of due date I find the imprecision very pleasing. Something like 3% of folks give birth on the given due date, but I'll bet if you consider zodiacal periods you'd get the majority of the bell curve right on target.
So the kid's due sometime in the middle of Cancer (July 21st to August 11th), though if it goes longer, early Leo is a definite possibility.
Which confirms what I told FeldMom the other day when she showed me a pattern for a knitted baby hat and suggested the kid could wear it home from the birth center. "We're talking dog days of summer, mom. That would be cruel." I assured her it was darling, and the kid would wear it that coming winter.
*pauses to seize with squeeing over the idea of LITTLE! NOGGIN!*
Okay, I'm back. And to show you that at least I'm not alone in my occasional lapses into Ren Hoek-like fits of affection for something that, currently, looks more like a sea monkey than anything you'd let even sit on good couch, Mr. F dreamt about the kid the other night.
ME: Boy or girl? Just curious.
MR. F: I don't know, babies all look the same to me, I can never tell. But this one was *ours*, and hence far more interesting than the average.
We're finally even, him and I. When we were first dating I woke up in a cold sweat having dreamt of a little girl holding my hand who looked kind of like him. That's when I realized I was in trouble, that he wasn't just something fun to do for a while. Bwahahahaha! Take that! Your subconscious bows to my meme!
I need sleep. I need more than my own sleep, I need your sleep. Not all of it, just a small portion. If half of my flist tithed just one hit of the snooze, that'd be almost seven more hours of sleep. That could tide me over until Thursday, easily.
In other news,
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Date: 2005-12-06 03:18 pm (UTC)(If, of course, you ignore the memories of frequent a;dljfaso;if on the keyboard at work.)
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Date: 2005-12-06 03:25 pm (UTC)And the 2 week extra thing while not actually pregnant is just to make up for the fact that at the end, when you are huge and unwieldly, you will feel like someone slowed time down just to get those two weeks in for real.
Girlie was an August baby. She was in a diaper or onesie and nothing else the couple of weeks after I brought her home. And she slept a lot. We used to have to put cold cloths or swipe her feet with an ice cube so I could nurse her. She is, I believe a Virgo (well, I hope she'll be more like one later. Right now she's Princessarian).
Good to see you awake!!
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Date: 2005-12-06 03:43 pm (UTC)She actually had V on her due date, but had started labor 3 days before. It wasn't full-on labor so we didn't realize until she went in for her Dr. appt. on the day before she was due. This was after she ate enough frelling food at Shoney's to fill several large men. I about drove that woman nuts timing contractions, but it was worth the evil mama glares when I cut the umbilical cord. *snickers at the memory*
One thing you might notice is that a lot of women seem to have their babies, or at least go into labor, during a full moon. Which is also what happened when V was born. I found out about that little tidbit after reading an article in Parenting magazine. (Which is a great resource for things that's to come.)
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Date: 2005-12-06 03:49 pm (UTC)2. OMGTINYBABYHEADS. I have a blanket, I have books, I have a toy, but no clothes. It's probably to early to go shopping for clothes, isn't it?
3. If it's wrong to be besotted with an olive-sized non-viable fetus, I don't want to be right.
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Date: 2005-12-06 04:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:08 pm (UTC)I've got a drawerful of onesies, so that's a good thing. Rubbing an ice cube on the feet is a great idea *files away*
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Date: 2005-12-06 04:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:17 pm (UTC)Yeah, that was a trip and half. I got to see everything. Some things, I wish I hadn't. ;)
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Date: 2005-12-06 04:18 pm (UTC)2. Ria? petal soft baby ears *watches Ria shudder with a seizure of cuteness* Now you see why I went garage-sailing this summer; don't buy new, they're only going to soil it with the most unspeakable fluids and then promptly outgrow it. Going rate for good condition onesies in my area is $0.25 ea.
3. *snerk* Though I must say, so far I'm even more firmly entrenched as pro-choice. You know, whenever the sea-monkey lets me out of slow-wave sleep, that is.
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Date: 2005-12-06 04:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:33 pm (UTC)The sleep jag of the first trimester came as a nasty shock; I don't know how single mothers cope, since I came home, ate, and lapsed into a coma every night.
A friend of mine helped it make sense by saying "Well, your body is essentially growing a new liver (the placenta), no WONDER you're pooped."
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Date: 2005-12-06 04:42 pm (UTC)Well in two weeks I've called in sick once and missed morning training twice (I slept through the alarm this morning and woke just in time to call Wendy five minutes before I was supposed to be there). I've also given up cooking for myself until school ends next week, 'cause it's just not happenin', Cap'n. And I took a ten minute nap in class last night between the digestion quiz and the cardiac lecture.
In short, I'm slowly derailing.
A friend of mine helped it make sense by saying "Well, your body is essentially growing a new liver (the placenta), no WONDER you're pooped."
OMG it makes so much sense that way.
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Date: 2005-12-06 04:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 05:03 pm (UTC)except for the stupid thing I did which I just realized I did six weeks after having done it, and which is making me have a huge panic attack.
Okay, now I'm confused. Don't feel bad--this week I seem to have trouble distinguishing my ass from my elbow with both hands and a flashlight. So...the who in the what, now?
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Date: 2005-12-06 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 05:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 05:31 pm (UTC)And dude, if you let me in on what's happening to our poor boy and his folks - even a teeny glance - I'll totally write Bones crackfic elevator fic with you. I'll even start.
"I told you we shouldn't all be here."
"Field trip," Angela smiles her bubble gum and hot sex smile and he turns up his mouth, looks to Bones for help.
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Date: 2005-12-06 05:39 pm (UTC)And guess what? The newborn baby needs the hat even if it's hot out. Swear. They put a hat on the baby as soon as s/he makes an appearance. I have no idea what escapes from the top of babies' heads, but it must be some important stuff.
I've also cut the cord, and watched all the insane between-the-legs stuff. Wheeee! It ROCKS.
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Date: 2005-12-06 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 07:20 pm (UTC)~*~
Bug-guy answers instead, "Mili-doats," and Junior takes pity on him and elaborates, "Our docent Milicent is herding a group of grade-schoolers through the center, and she prefers us to steer clear with specimens."
Booth eyes the tray propped on Bones's hip, the specimen in question giving him the hairy eyeball through the thick poly evidence bag. "Right."
Bones jabs at the red call button for the third time but that only makes the lights dim.
"Okay, *now* will you leave the panel alone?"
She glares at him, echoed by the pal on her hip. "Then call someone."
"My cell's on your desk."
Angela's eyebrows rise.
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Date: 2005-12-06 07:45 pm (UTC)"Never saw them trapped in an elevator with..." Booth looks at the specimen, tries not to gulp.
"An immolated body on a rooftop doesn't bother you but this does?"
There's just enough hint of amusement in her voice to piss him off. If Bones thinks something's funny, humanity's going to find it freaking hysterical.
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Date: 2005-12-06 08:09 pm (UTC)It's a bid to ease the tension and change the subject, but it's too subtle to work with this crowd.
"So let me get this straight." Bones shifts the tray to both hands, presenting it like June Cleaver offering a gory jello dessert at the Manson Family potluck. "You used to specialize in head shots, but *this* makes you squeamish?"
He's driven for hours in DC traffic with her reeking of death, with a hint of her floral patchouli beneath, but the big freight elevator is hotter and more confining. "Could you just...set Mr. Gudrati's head down? For now? We're not going anywhere until someone fixes this."
"If they find us." Junior's gone morbid in the corner. "If we're not under some kind of red alert lockdown."
Bug-guy offers him a little dried fish from where he sits down near the wall, crinkled and silver in his fingers like a piece of gum foil. Junior eyes it, then joins Bug-guy's calm snacking, sliding down the wall morosely.
Angela looks as queasy as Booth feels. "Tell me you don't keep them in your lab coat pocket."
"I'm well-versed in lab protocol, you know." Bug-guy shakes his knee, jingling an open zipper on his cargo pants where the Japanese-printed bag sticks out. "Just because you think most men are Neaderthals doesn't mean you can lay that trip on me."
"Touchy, touchy." With a sigh she too slides down, leaving the Booth, Bones and Mr. Gudrati's head as the only ones standing.
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Date: 2005-12-06 08:28 pm (UTC)"Those skulls represent hominid evolution," she says, as if that's the most natural thing in the world, as if everyone's got the monkey to man diaspora riding the back of their couch.
"Yeah, well what happened to Mr. Gudrati doesn't seem particularly evolved."
She shrugs and the head jiggles. "Murder isn't unheard of in the fossil record."
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Date: 2005-12-06 09:09 pm (UTC)"You're no Neaderthal, hon, you're far too gracile."
Junior snorts.
"I prefer the term 'wiley'."
"Now him, he's robust. He could harbor a few stray gene sequences."
"Don't tell me you still believe that Wolpoff stuff."
"Have you seen some of those suits downtown? Tell me there aren't certain Caucasian features that just scream Neanderthal."
Junior speaks around a snackyfish, "You're always going on about how white guys have flat butts; Neanderthals were muscular."
He will not look over his shoulder. He will not respond to Squint's curious head tilt or the feel of three sets of eyes on his backside. He walks to the button panel to investigate that instead.
"I rest my case."
Squints finally sets Mr. Gudrati down and kneels in the middle of the elevator, completing the storytime circle. "Booth shows no trace of the classic midface projection or cranial vault shape of Homo neanderthalensis."
Bug-guy clarifies, "Well obviously in our hypothesis most of his traits would be Cro Magnon."
"Obviously." Booth murmurs to himself, prying open the panel.
"I think we're all in agreement that those beneficial traits that led to Homo sapiens reproductive success," Junior chimes in, louder as he always gets when he's keyed up on a theory, "would perforce be represented in whatever diluted descendents the Neanderthals may or may not have."
"Intelligence, a certain gracility and economy of physical development, those traits that would foster survival and producing progeny that could compete with full Cro Magnon populations."
Angela adds to Squint's list, "Good looks."
"What does that have to do with it?"
"They'd have to be able to get Cro Magnon tail; the heavier the brow ridge, the more they'd have to compensate for that."
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Date: 2005-12-06 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 09:55 pm (UTC)Now that he wished she would have said with a smile on her face.
Angela tilts her head. "Well, the whole Neandertals as super hominids theory might support that. Heavier bones, heavier skulls, thicker muscles, bigger penises. It's not impossible."
Bones places her fingertips on the edge of Mr. Grudati's plastic wrap. "It might explain why that line faded out. More testosterone could lead to more aggression, more competition for resources and reproduction. Too much competition would have eroded the gene pool."
"Explains why he only dates lawyers," Bug guy said, chewing on a fish.
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Date: 2005-12-06 11:09 pm (UTC)So, so true.
seva
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Date: 2005-12-07 12:10 am (UTC)and i thought "girl" right away. almost instantaneous. just sayin'... :D
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Date: 2005-12-07 12:18 am (UTC)"Combination of aggression and intelligence." Bug-guy continues after he's swallowed. "Joe Blow Neanderthal has a certain preference for intelligent mates, seeks out Cro Magnon females and hence adds his genetic contribution to the surviving branch of humanity. Hell, preference for clever mates could be one of the sexual selective pressure on humans to this day."
"And aggression?" Junior prods, ever the eager disciple.
"Carry-over from the cave."
Squints demurs, but he can't tell if she's trying to be her version of polite or simply properly scientific about it. "On the contrary, if any branch was more violent it was likely Homo sapiens. Highly intelligent people also kill, you know."
"It seems they prefer head shots."
Booth leans down to peer at the lever beneath the call button, calling softly to Angela, "I didn't leave my gun on her desk."
"Well," she's all sparkle and amused bravado, "He apparently got that brow ridge *somewhere*."
There's a shaving of plastic stuck under the lever mechanism, everything small and delicate and stuck.
"Booth."
With a sigh he turns. Squints is on her knees, holding court or maybe holding a cabinet meeting, silverback geek of some troop of weird-ass primates that weren't quite human, sapienissimos stuck in the freight elevator of their steel and glass ivory tower. Her hips and shoulders have pleasing complementary tilts but she's eyeing him with the hot microscopic glint she reserves for evidence.
She can lookat a skull and see a face, but suddenly he knows she can do the opposite as well, that everyone she meets can be meat in her eyes, no matter how reverently she treats pieces like the late Mr. Gudrati.
He reaches into her hair and plucks out a brass hairpin.
"Ow!"
"Stop staring at my browridge." He bends it open and flicks the tiny rubber tip off one end.
"Sorry."
He picks out the plastic shaving and pushes the call button. "No, you're not."
The intercom clicks to life. "This is Ruiz in Security, we've got an engineer on the job right now, everyone okay in there?"
Booth straightened. "Yes, what happened?"
"Glitch in the fire alarm, all the elevators stopped mid floor. You'll be moving in a couple minutes"
"Can you imagine Mili-doats in a glass cage full of rugrats?" Bug-guy crinkles his fish bag closed.
Bones retrieves Mr. Gudrati as Junior pronounces, "Unthinkable."
"No, what's unthinkable was that you were checking out his brow ridge of all things."
The question is whispered back as Squints hangs back. "What else would I be looking at?"
"Rhymes with brow ridge." After a few moments Angela adds with exasperation, "*Package*"
"I don't know what that means."
The answer is apparently non verbal.
"That? I could just ask him *that*."
Angela is deadpan. "You're serious."
Bug-guy sighs heavily. Junior is silent, perhaps socially paralyzed. Booth sends a half-hearted prayer to Ruiz to save him from bored anthropologists who seem to find disconcerting him a sport.
He ignores her but she sidles up to him, her tray at least propped on the hip away from him.
"Booth." She waits until he finally makes eye contact, then curiously defers the phrasing of the question. "Angela was curious. Are you hung?"
"So let me get this straight--you don't know what 'package' is, but you know the phrase 'hung'?"
She clutches the tray, indignant. "I don't own a TV."
"That, again."
"Well, are you?"
"I would be, but I left my tie on your desk."
Junior breaks out of his social paralysis as the elevator lurches. "That's hanged."
He opens his mouth to respond but the lights flick out for a few seconds, a few vital seconds of mutters and shuffling and something brushing the front of his hip. When they come back on full the elevator starts moving and no one's within three feet of him except Squints, who has both hands gripped on Mr. Gudrati's tray.
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Date: 2005-12-07 12:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 03:50 am (UTC)wow. i am never again leaving livejournal again if this is what happens when i do...
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Date: 2005-12-07 02:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 02:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 02:16 pm (UTC)I looked the zodiac dates up on Wikipedia, and I may have used the wrong column in the table I found.
Girl, eh? I'll put you down for 'female' in the pool, then *g*
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Date: 2005-12-07 05:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 12:46 am (UTC)