MORE JULIE THAN EVER

First off, some red meat for the family. They’ve been wanting more pictures of Julie pregnant, so here you go:


She still looks great and, when you consider that she’s almost 8 months pregnant with twins, that’s nothing short of a miracle. People now stop her and say, “when’s the due date?” When she answers, they look concerned and say, “I don’t think you’re going to make it that long.” They calm down a bit when she says there are two babies in there, but talk like that does me no good.

Now I don’t want Julie to spend a whole summer miserable and pregnant, and I don’t mind if these twins come a little early (they’re considered full term after 36 weeks), but these babies need to understand that I have Radiohead tickets.

They’re playing in two weeks… in LA… and I’ve got tickets. This show is almost too good to happen, so now I’m paranoid that it’s not going to happen for me.

Every night, I put my face right up to Julie’s belly and explain to the twins just how good this show is going to be, and how much I’d really like to see it, and how disappointed I’d be if I couldn’t go. I use very stern language to express this. (I may have threatened to ground them if they come too early, but I’m not ready to admit to that yet.)

It’s a bit disturbing because I keep hearing things about how pregnant women are on a hair-trigger and could just decide to go into labor at any time. And things like a foot massage or firm handshake can set it off. That’s just nuts.

Needless to say, I’m not touching Julie’s hands or feet for the next six weeks. I’m sure she’ll understand.

(Later this week, a post that has nothing to do with babies, really)