More sports equipment

My friend Alan reminded me that along with a football, basketball, and baseball glove, I also need to get a child's set of golf clubs. How did I forget?! I chastise myself for my empty-headedness.

I was right, but I doubt Lorein will admit it

I told Lorein not to overreach -- to avoid overconfidence and hubris -- but she insisted on applying female pronouns to our baby. "She" this and "her" that. Lorein argued emphatically that she felt strongly it was a girl. Amazingly, all of her sisters felt the same. Me, I stuck with gender-neutral "it" or "baby". Lorein would get mad: "She's not an 'it'! She's a girl!" Well, guess what, Lorein. It's not a girl! It's a boy! And I'm going to tell him that you kept calling him a girl so that he'll like me more than you! I'm also going to tell him you complain all the time about being pregnant, but I've never complained once about having a baby. He'll never forgive you! Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy a baseball glove, a basketball, and a football.
Oh, I almost forgot. Lorein wants the record to show that she knows of two couples who had an ultrasound, learned the sex of the baby, and then later -- either at birth or a second ultrasound -- found out the first technician was wrong. Geez Lorein, give it up already!

Please notice the masculine jaw and the already flexing muscles. Lorein also wants me to point out that the technician said he has my "fat cheeks". That's okay, just more ammunition for me. Lorein, I will let him know you spent his gestation-hood insulting his cheeks.

Charlotte Bronte . . . or J.K. Rowling?

I started reading Jane Eyre today. I know it's a chick book, but I'm a sucker for Victorian novels. As I read the first few chapters, I was struck by something that I just had to share. For those of you haven't yet read it, Jane is an orphan who is sent to live with her Mother's brother. The uncle is kind, but then he dies. On his death bed, he makes his wife (Jane's aunt) promise to take care of Jane. The aunt does so, but she is very mean to Jane and treats her as an ungrateful freeloader. No matter how Jane tries to please her aunt, she only receives criticism and punishment. Jane sleeps in a closet and isn't allowed to participate in the Christmas parties at the house or get any presents. The aunt also has three kids who are unkind to Jane. The oldest is a dumb, fat boy who beats Jane up. He's actually a bully to everybody, including his mom, but she ignores all his faults and thinks he's one of the nicest boys ever. He's even mean to his schoolmaster, who tells his mom he is too fat, but she just thinks he's homesick, so she brings him home and coddles him some more. Finally, when Jane turns 10, a man comes to the house to take her away to school. While the school itself is austere, the superintendent is a nice woman who takes a kindly interest in Jane and assures her her life will now be better. The school becomes Jane's home for the next 8 years since her aunt doesn't want her to come back, not even for holidays. At the school, the children are divided into four classes with a teacher at the head of each one. Does any of this sound familiar? IT'S HARRY POTTER!! I noticed some similarities early on, but with each successive page, it just got more and more bizarre. Not that I think J.K. Rowling plagiarized, but I thought I would've at least heard somewhere that Jane Eyre was an inspiration to her. I mean, did nobody else notice the similarities? And by similarities, I mean IT'S THE EXACT SAME THING (minus the magic). Jane's best friends were even named Hermione and Ron! Just kidding.

Stop the presses! My parents came to visit!

It was amazing! My parents (and Mary Ann) actually came to visit us! It's the first time they've made the trek since we moved in. Every other attempt has been thwarted by some act of God. I got a text message in the morning and I thought for sure it was going to be my mom telling me they had to take Mary Ann back to the ER and that they weren't coming, but it turned out to be a spam message. They came! They actually came!
They picked a good weekend too because it was gorgeous. We went and walked around the Venice canals -- I know, you thought they were only in Italy, but it turns out you can save a bunch of money and we'll show you some canals just as good. And we saw the house in Beverly Hills where my dad lived during his final years in high school. And we ate wonderful Brazilian food. And we had frozen yogurt. And it was a great weekend.

Parental warning: Lorein's demon eyes may scare young children.

It's been one week . . .

It's been a bittersweet week. First, Renee, Drew, and Corinne came to visit us. That's sweet because we got to see the kids, but bitter, obviously, because Renee had to come along as well. They went to see Wicked, as these pictures attest. Unfortunately, they weren't able to figure out that you can put more than one person in a picture, so I have to post three separate pictures.












As a critical review, Renee and Corinne said it was awesome, but Drew thought it was a little cheesy. I, however, find that hard to believe because who's ever known a Broadway musical to be cheesy?
Second, my Dad got tickets for he and I to go to the NCAA Tournament in Anaheim. That was sweet because it was a lot of fun, but bitter because, once again, BYU is erased in the first round. I was a little miffed they'd only gotten an 8 seed, but they've pretty much empirically proven now they don't deserve anything higher. Before the game, all I read was how Texas A&M had no inside presence, and yet, they seemed to get every rebound. Where is our toughness down low? It does create another sweet, though. Now I don't have to harbor any doubt whatsoever about who to root for -- UCLA or BYU. It looked like they would end up playing in the 2nd round, and I was a bit conflicted. I mean, I wanted UCLA because they have a legit shot at the title, but it also would've been really, really cool if BYU had gone to the Sweet 16.
This picture was taken at halftime, when we were still happy because BYU had tied the game.

Battery Charger Found!

I found the battery charger! Finally, the masses clamoring for photos may be appeased. It was in my suitcase, which I am sure I checked a couple of times. I mean, whenever I thought about where it could be, the first place I would consider was my suitcase. Maybe I'm going crazy. Either way, it's a good thing I found it because it lets us post a picture of . . . A PREGNANT LOREIN! (Note from Lorein: A big thanks to Kathy for my cute new pregnancy shirt! When I look in the mirror or look down at my tummy it looks a lot bigger to me than it does in this picture...I think I have a skewed view of myself=)

Maybe it wasn't kicking

I mentioned in my last post that I felt the baby kicking, but upon further review (meaning Lorein patiently explaining things to me), I realize now that the baby could also have been punching. Or even more likely, as anyone who has seen our backsides can attest, the baby probably just has a big ol' ghetto booty that is wreaking havoc in there!

Little Baby Crall is Dancing Away

As you can probably guess from Chris' post, he got to feel the baby move last night. I've been feeling little Baby Crall move a little bit all week, but the baby really started moving yesterday. I felt he/she throughout the day which is a crazy and very neat experience to say the least. But last night Baby Crall really started moving and Chris was even able to feel the baby move. I can't believe there really is a human being growing inside of me and now I can feel it. I know it's nothing new for all you baby veterans, but it sure is a novel experience for us!

It's Alive!

Holy Crap! I felt the baby move! It kicks real hard. Obviously an athlete.

No battery charger

I know everyone is going through The Crall Space withdrawals since we haven't had a new post in awhile, but it's because I can't find our camera battery charger. Which means I can't post the pictures that the masses are clamoring for! So, hold your horses until I can find it . . . or send me a new camera. Either option is fine with me.