Um, did I tell you that the baby is due on September 11? That’s according to my OB-GYN’s calculations anyway. When I did my own calculations (oh, probably when I was just about a day late - talk about excited!), I came up with September 12. Don’t ask me how I got that. It was probably mostly guesswork and not even scientific at all. Anyway, when I got on a pregnancy website and let one of those online calculators do the work, it gave me September 10. Ooh well. The thing about me is that I’m such a dork that I do everything very much “textbook” (go figure how I turned that into an adverb). With my first pregnancy, everything happened just as how it was described in the books - the “show” came, and then about two hours later, my water broke, etc. … and all of these exactly on the due date. The thing is, with this pregnancy, I’m kind of hoping I’ll be early or late. It doesn’t really matter in the general scheme of things, but 9/11 doesn’t have the best associations, you know. My doctor assures me, Oh this is your second pregnancy, you’ll probably be early… Well, she may be right. I’m not going to worry about it anyway. In any case, around that time, I would be busy with Mark’s birthday, which falls on the 8th, and Marguerite’s, which falls on the 22nd. I’ll be the only one in my family without a September birthday. Did we plan for my due date to be close to Marguerite’s birthday? Sort of. I know how kids parties can be expensive, so a double celebration is rather like hitting two birds with one stone. Ugh, I think I made it sound mercenary. Anyway, I don’t remember why we had to zero in on September for births. It’s a good month for parties in the West, but is the peak of crazy typhoon season over here.