My dad must have thought his hold on the title of Weirdest Parent Ever was slipping. So he sent Owen a Christmas present. It is a DVD of a Discovery channel documentary about the race to have the first privately-funded space flight. What an appropriate gift for a -3 month old baby! Amazingly, Owen's extensive space documentary library didn't already include that title.

Not to be out weirded, Leo reacted thusly:

"Your dad wants Owen to be a fighter pilot, but what he doesn't understand is that Owen will be in the infantry".

Huh? Fiddlesticks, we all know that Owen will either be a priest or president. And who wishes for their child to be in the infantry? Clearly, all men are insane. And the gender ratio in my house will soon tip in their favor.

My mother got a real kick out of Leo asking over Thanksgiving how many words my sister's 4 month old niece knew. So I had to call her this morning and point out even more inappropriate baby behavior from someone she married.

I had my 1 hour glucose test this morning. I had read that the sugar drink is awful and that some people gag or even vomit from it, but it was fine. It tasted like McDonald's orange drink, which is pretty yucky but still potable. As predicted, I did feel like I was dying about 20 minutes after drinking it, but I felt fine by the time my blood was drawn so hopefully it came out ok. At least they don't use pancakes for the test, because I usually need about 2 hours to recover from eating pancakes.

As usual, the blood drawing portion of the test took forever. I have really small veins and very low blood pressure, so every time I get blood drawn, it takes forever to find a vein and then another forever to actually fill the vile. This time is usually spent being lectured by the lab tech (they are, apparently, called "phlebotomists", according to the sings in the lab) about the state of my circulatory system. Its not like there is anything I can do about it, so I always just smile and nod. I mean, its not like I've ever had an iv drug habit or anything, I just came that way. So I have two lovely cotton balls band-aided to my inner elbow now.

I only have the hard-to-shop-for set left on my Christmas list. The one brother-in-law that I've now known for five years is done, but the other two are total mysteries. I got mysterious sister-in-law a lovely burl wood jewelry box (which I've decided is the perfect "I don't know you that well, but you are a girl so this must be a good gift" gift) and the other, less mysterious one a nursing-friendly twin set. That SIL is due to give birth at any moment. I actually just called her, more to find out the state of her cervix really, but also to get some Christmas shopping help. I hate that I did it, because I'm sure people will be calling me three months from now, wanting the same info, but I just can't stand it anymore, I'm dying to know what's happening.

The Gucci ice cube trays (which are completely unlinkable too, thanks Gucci) that I wanted to get Shannon as a wedding gift are sold out. Now I just might have to get them something useful.