Well, we headed off to the doctor today, and I left thoroughly confused. Not because the doctor told me anything that confused me (he didn't - everything is fine, still measuring a week big, not too much weight gain, good blood pressure, no swelling), but because I am sure that someone switched my children on me.

We went in at 9:30, and they were so well-behaved. I was in total shock. I don't mean to mislead you - they are well-behaved children, most of the time. But there must be something piped into the air system at the doctor's office, because, without fail, every time we go there, they fight. The fight over the markers (even though I bring a pack for each of them). They fight over the magazines (even though only one of them can remotely read). They fight over sitting on my lap (even though it's getting smaller by the day). But, seldom do they all behave and love one another at the doctor's office.

Apparently, today was my reward for what must amount to extra-good behavior. The kids were little angels. No problems at all. They were so cute - they colored pictures for the doctor, Emma got to hold the speaker for the heartrate Doppler (heartrate is now at 130 - as the baby gets bigger, it gets slower), Patrick asked the doctor if he went to the ball pit when he was a little boy. Gracie actually spoke to the doctor. It was great. For a reward, I took them to the Play Castle at the Community Center, where they spent 45 minutes running, climbing and jumping.

Of course, I didn't bother trying to find my real children, since these are so good. These at least look like my kids, and they're about the same age, so I'm thinking that Tom won't even be able to tell the difference.