It's ALI-I-IVE!

Even though the Littlest George's eyes are fused shut, the little banana is awake. And the baby seems to have stored up some caffeine.

I've been waiting to feel more than the tap-tap-tap – wanting those bigger movements that would reassure me more regularly that I haven't killed the baby. After the first three somersaults, I'm was assured. And startled, and weirded out. This has gone on pretty regularly for days now.

Hunter has been looking forward to feeling the baby move too, so on Friday night I woke him after he'd been asleep for a half-hour and put his hand on my abdomen. He got a little karate chop, said "Wow, that's neat!" and kissed me before falling back to sleep.

The Olympic gymnastic trials continuted in my womb for another hour and a half. I stared at the ceiling then watched a John Cusack movie. The tumbling went on and on.

Baby, I know you're alive. Now go to sleep.

I know my discomfort will grow, so it's a bit early to be complaining. I put a self-imposed deadline of the third trimester before I would allow myself to whine regularly about the irritations of pregnancy, since I entered into this state willingly and even remember looking forward to it.

• My skin will glow!
• It'll be such a miracle to have this child because I'm in love with my husband!
• Plus, a new wardrobe!

I have pimples on my collarbone and a husband who teases me about them, but my clothes have expandable waists. Naner, naner.