In which we do our final preparations for Grasshopper's arrival

I have reached the "Waddling" stage of pregnancy. I have about three things that fit me, and my wedding rings are not included in that short list. I am very grateful that the swelling that plagues most pregnant women waited until the last weeks for me.

After taking our childbirth class last month, we have been particularly paranoid about every twinge and tickle. Could this be a sign of oncoming labor? How about this? While I may rationally know that hiccups are not an indication of labor, it doesn't stop me from having to take a moment to remind myself that there is a specific list of symptoms to look for, and hiccups are not included on that list.

The crib is set up (thanks, Mark)! Also, Liam's work threw him a baby shower, which was incredibly sweet. Their generosity completely blindsided us, and we can safely say that our nursery and baby preparations are complete now. Car seat installed? Check. Bassinet set up? Check (and tears, I cry a lot these days). Hospital bag packed? Check. Panic and excitement? Check.

The only thing left uncertain are our cats' reactions to bringing Grasshopper home. Thus far we anticipate:

• Tomoe will completely ignore the baby, and pretend that there is nothing new going on.
• Butterscotch will go one of two ways. 1) complete and utter panic at this loud, noisy, sticky thing that has invaded her home. 2) deciding that the loud, noisy, sticky thing is a hairless kitten that needs a nursemaid, or at least to be guarded from a secure distance, like underneath the crib.
• Sirius will decide that the baby is fascinating, and will become his best bud. They will get in lots of adventures together.

However, despite the kitties' good intentions, we have purchased cat nets to keep the kitties out of the crib and bassinet while we are not watching, because Sirius is 15 pounds of solid muscle, and Butterscotch is 13 pounds, and even if they would never intentionally hurt the baby, the baby's lungs will not be strong enough to lift a heavy cat off of his ribs, and Sirius has the disconcerting habit of affectionately lying across people's faces (Sirius is sweet, but hasn't got an awful lot going on in the brains department). No unsupervised kitties with the baby, thank you very much. At least not until the baby is at least as big as the cats, and is capable of turning his own head.