Today my husband commented that it was just like me to get stretch marks in time for Pentecost. It took me a little while to get this (I can only see them in the mirror, as they are below the visibility mark, like my feet) and realize that they are shaped like tongues of fire. So we've got the "current nursery" decorations down, at least.
Bunny and I are interacting more these days. He kicks (or orples, or does something in there to attract my attention) and I pat back. If I've been paying proper attention, he wakes up and moves around about every two hours or so, and does move more when we dialogue. It reminds me of the petition for "captives" even more, since it's like two prisoners on either side of a wall, trying to communicate. "Now we see through a glass darkly, but then face-to-face."
And Fr. Peter has finally felt Bunny kick. He doesn't seem all that interested in putting his hand there, but he'll keep it there for a while if I put it on my tummy. For whatever reason, Bunny usually stops kicking when his father's hand is there, but when he does kick big enough to be felt outside (as opposed to my viscera—thanks, kiddo), his father's face lights up and delights me.