Duffed no more: It runs in the family
To be completely honest, I garnered a faint suspicion early on that my darling Mini D was perhaps going to take after my side of the family (in some respects) at the 12 week scan. From the anecdotes that I’ve heard from quite a lot of mothers, their “euphemism” was serenely treading water, sleeping or looking generally pretty Zen at this point. And my beloved is a bit of a laid back guy.
Hmm…after about 10 seconds into the first ultrasound, it was clear that this was not going to happen in my world. Jumping bean central. Rick O’Shay. Ditto at the 20 week and 23 week scan. We couldn’t tell the gender because he wouldn’t actually stay still long enough. This reminds of my greatly adored and brilliant little sister, whose dedication to talking to people, and possibly having more energy than many have in a lifetime is just awesome, if a little brain cobbling for the casual observer.
Oh and the fact we nicknamed him “Kicky”.
This blog sounds terribly me-me-me at the minute but I must admit, I hope it means he’s “caught” the music gene, because two big lads in the house who couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket would probably be the death of me. This flat is *way* too small for tunes that are not meant to be atonal, becoming slowly more atonal over time. This is combined with bizarre timing that results in gradual shortening of a given musical phrase until it’s only the “headline” bit of the riff that’s suddenly being delivered in 2.5/4 time rather than the 4/4 it started out with. After driving one round the twist. It’s like a riff has a half life, gradually losing notes like radium loses electrons…