Bruce the Wolf, Phoebe the Ninja, Emily the Boat, and Scott the Doc

 Last week we attended Bruce's Cub Scout troop's Blue and Gold Banquet. He completed all of his "Wolf" requirements and got some bling for his shirt; I'm still trying to figure out what all this scouting stuff means besides more sewing for me. One of Bruce's requirements was to learn how to cook a meal; he chose macaroni and cheese, of course. He can now turn on the stove independently (which scares me), and has made his classic dish twice without help.

 Besides providing grub at the banquet, the scouts had fun activities for kids. The theme was "knights of the round table" and there was an obstacle course complete with stick-horse-riding, cardboard-wall-climbing, catapult-slinging (pictured above), and cave-crawling. Phoebe jumped right in with the boys and had a blast.

 Phoebe blended in with the boys again when she was invited to a friend's birthday party. It seems she was born among a wave of boys, and almost all her friends are boys. This was a "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle"-themed party. Phoebe hadn't heard of them, but wondered why these ninjas looked different than the ones Bruce plays with. Still, she enjoyed pounding the bad-guy-ninja balloons, chucking ninja stars into a bucket, and swiping candy from a ninja pinata.

 She was also excited about eating frosting that made her tongue pink. She may have eaten a little cake too, but mostly frosting.

And because seeing photos of me on the blog happens as often as a bigfoot sighting, here I am at 22 weeks. Just last week I felt like I doubled in size and had a few really sluggish days when I was really glad for a nap. Overall though, I'm still feeling pretty good. I'm still running 4ish miles a day and have been going at a respectable pace for the past few months, but I feel my pace will slow very soon. I've felt the baby kicking around for a few weeks, but just this week the kicks have been big enough that Bruce and Phoebe can feel them too. They like to put their hands on my belly and wait for a "high-five," as Phoebe calls them. Phoebe makes up elaborate stories about tickling the baby, making him laugh, giving him high-fives, and so forth. Sometimes she says she hears him laughing. She is so excited for Knox, as she calls him. Everyone has a different name for him; Bruce likes Edmund and Scott is on a Greek-mythology-kick with names like Apollo and Perseus (still!). I like Elliot right now, but I change my mind about every other day.

Scott is pulling really random shifts in the ER lately. He often works overnight, which means he sleeps in during the mornings and I have to try to keep kids quiet (impossible) or get out of the house. Afternoons are nice though because Scott can spend time with the kids or work on projects around the house. He put together a whole wall of wardrobe-type closets in our room last week so we now have more storage space. Next up is painting the living room and Bruce's bedroom. Anyway, Scott enjoys the fast pace, immediate reward, and quick thinking that the ER requires. Most nights it sounds like he spends 60% of his time sewing up lacerations on drunk college kids, 30% of the time diagnosing stupid stuff people shouldn't show up at the ER for ("Yes, those bumps are completely normal, sir" and "Vomiting? Nausea? When was your last period? You're pregnant"), and 10% of the time finding and treating a real problem. He has made a few rare diagnoses that he was proud of, dusted off his Russian language skills for a few patients, and perfected his sewing skills.

Perhaps he can sew all the badges and beads and whatnot onto Bruce's shirt; it won't flinch and curse as much as a drunk college kid.