There were a few times while we were enjoying our vacation in Philly that it was overcast and drizzly outside. It was that kind of weather that makes you want sip some tea and cocoon yourself in blankets the whole day. But I kept wondering what was different about the Philly cloudy days from the famous Seattle cloudy days we so often get. I couldn't put my finger on it. The dreary days set in here while we were gone for our three-week trip, so I hadn't seen the rainy weather that looms in the area for nine to ten months out of the year for quite a while. Well, now that we've returned I've figured it out. In Philly you step outside, look up at the sky and say "Man, it's cloudy". In Silverdale you literally step outside into a cloud. The cloud lives in your front yard. It's usually not really raining, just misting enough to get you irritatingly wet and cold - kind of like those mist machines they put up at amusement parks on hot days that make you look like you have snow in your hair after you walk under them. There's a beauty to the dreariness when you drive up on a hill and see the fog and mist settled deep in the evergreens below, but I rarely drive up on hills so I rarely see the beauty of it.
Our trip to Philly was just what we wanted it to be. It was our longest visit since we moved out here, so we had plenty of time to see family and a few friends. That said, I was amazed by how quickly it went. There were so many people we both wanted to spend more time with and weren't able to. I was grateful for my best friend's wedding, not only because it was beautiful and lots of fun, but I was able to see quite a few people that I probably wouldn't have seen otherwise. It served as a mini reunion for many of us. Andrew was also able to enjoy some much-needed time away from work and a break from being constantly reachable. We both get tired of the 3 AM phone calls for him to unexpectedly come into work or our plans for the day ruined because they need him to come wait for hours to pee in a cup. Personally, I loved having him to myself for a few weeks and knowing the Navy couldn't steal him at a moment's notice.
Baby Girl Matthews is kicking just as much, if not more, than her big brother did and seems to be growing beautifully. I have a pre-natal appointment tomorrow, so I'll have more details then, but there is no question that my stomach has popped more in the past month. I'm finally out of the awkward phase where people aren't sure whether I'm pregnant or still trying to get rid of the baby weight from Will. I haven't gotten many unwelcome belly rubs quite yet (although a random man in the Costco parking lot rubbed Will's head as we passed by the other day, which freaked me out way more). I have a long list of things I'd like to accomplish before the baby is born that I know I won't come close to finishing, so I'm trying to prioritize. Towards the top of the list is my first sewing project with my new sewing machine. I'm going to attempt to make cushion covers for cushions we have in Will's room that will eventually be a little reading nook. I'm not as confident in my skills as I'd like to be, but I'll get there (with help from my wonderful sister-in-law sewing master). I also have all kinds of Pinterest projects I'd love to do for the new nursery, but we'll see how many of those I get to before January.
It's shocking how much faster this pregnancy is going than my pregnancy with Will, mainly because I'm busier, but also because I'm not so paranoid about every little twinge of pain. I feel a little more at ease since I know what to expect and what is cause for concern. Even the fact that I know what labor contractions feel like makes me much less anxious. I was terrified with Will that I wasn't going to realize I was in labor until we were rushing to the hospital at the last second. It turned out my water broke at four in the morning, so I knew what was up. Plus, I now know that labor pains are pretty hard to ignore.
I guess the only other news is we're currently fostering two little kittens that are roughly two weeks old. The shelter said when we took them that we were in charge of naming them, so their names are Cindy and Peggy (sound familiar?). Cindy's a bully and Peggy's a whiner - the kittens, that is. While I'm grateful I agreed to only take a litter of two instead of six, it's really been fun taking care of them. They are still bottle-fed, so I'm remembering what it's like to get up in the middle of the night for feedings. I'm thinking of it as a good way to ease back into the hourly nursing sessions coming my way in a couple months. It's remarkable how quickly you forget... Thankfully, they'll be off bottles in a couple of weeks and we'll probably give them back to the shelter to be put up for adoption at the end of December. It's been surprisingly education, too. Did you know that kittens can't pee or poop on their own until they're a few weeks old and until then the mother cat eats it for them? Welp, I didn't. I'll leave you with that.