And Baby Killion is...

...a girl. Most likely. *Check out this side profile!

Let me explain. We went for the ultrasound this morning. I'm just over sixteen weeks along, so it's still a tad early--we shall see, said the technician. Well, we could see Baby, looking so cute and looking so big on the screen. (In reality, Baby is about five inches long right now.) Baby wasn't moving its legs very much, which made it troublesome to see if Baby was a boy or a girl. But the technician managed to get that all-important picture between the legs...and there's nothing there. (See arrow below.) "I'm 75% certain that your baby is a girl," said the technician. Although 75% certain is not 100% certain, it's better than 50% certain. I am scheduled for my "official" ultrasound in three weeks; this time around was more like a sneak preview. I will refrain from referring to Baby as Liz until the experts are 100% certain. (Chris and my youngest sister Julia are still holding out for that possible 25% chance of J.J.)

Speaking of pregnancy, have you heard about that school in Massachusetts that has SEVENTEEN pregnant girls in its halls? Apparently, this group of girls made a pact to get pregnant at the same time so they could all raise their babies together. That's not true, they retorted. They said they would only support each other when they got pregnant...and these pregnancies just happened to be now. Right. These girls are sixteen years old or younger. These girls are RIDICULOUS. Back when I was sixteen and a junior in high school (only four years ago), we made pacts like, "Oh, let's attend each others' weddings when they happen" or, "Let's get together during the summers in between college" or even, "Let's all get together and go prom dress shopping." Not, "let's get pregnant at the ripe age of sixteen and raise our kids together because everything will be so easy and fun." I cannot say what went through their minds...but let me tell you, this wasn't their smartest idea ever. Far from it.
**Further evidence that the majority of today's society is going down the toilet.

On a better note, thanks in part to an email from my dear brother Bill, I have once again picked up my clarinet to play. I was blessed to be in an elementary school with a band, so I started on the clarinet in the 5th grade. I then left MMS to go on to Wildwood Catholic, where we were told we would have a band...but naturally that fell through. (Typical Catholic high school=poor. Had to pay an arm and a leg to attend, but few resources were available.) No clarinet playing throughout high school or my first two years of college. However, last summer, while rummaging through a store called Tuesday Morning with my mom-in-law, I discovered a clarinet on sale for $50. A total and complete steal for a brand-new instrument. ...Naturally, I bought it. And it collected dust for nearly a year until Sunday night! I broke it out to play the notes I remembered from all those years ago.
When I was young (aka still living at home), I often played our piano when I was in a cheerful or thoughtful or spiritual mood. I only play with my right hand, but I love to do it. One of those spiritual moods hit me on Sunday night...and there wasn't a piano in sight. So, I turned to the only other instrument in the place: faithful, trusted clarinet. It feels good to play again. I'm reminded of how much my right thumb will hurt, or my left wrist, as I move my fingers to reach the keys. I absolutely love playing an instrument. Chris and I have decided we will introduce our children to music. Kate and I play the clarinet; Bill and Joe play the trombone; Julia...hmm. Julia will only be in the third grade this fall, but if she doesn't follow the route of her sisters, I can see her with a sax!