Yesterday, I had the entirely unoriginal thought that time changes -- if not quite everything -- then something awfully close to it. I asked Trish what, in theory, the due date would be and she told me that it's the middle of April, which would (counting on my fingers), make Cole and the new baby just about 15 months apart.
Now, I realize that a perfect ultrasound at 11.5 weeks isn't a guarantee of, well, anything. But for so long, I used to cringe whenever I saw a double stroller. And in the spring, if all goes well, I'll be pushing one.
(Oh, and the picture? Beruriah, in one of the comments to the previous post, noted that this blog was becoming positively cheerful. Which made me think that a little bit of countervailing darkness was probably in order. Because, consistency and all of that.)