Erin’s started getting some contractions when she overexerts herself a little. The remedy at this point is to drink some water and lie down. Presently, it’ll only be an issue if she has more than four contractions in a hour or if her water breaks. She’s a few days away from 36 weeks, and after that milestone the kid is welcome to show up whenever he or she wants. Later is better from the financial and readiness perspectives, but health-wise after 36 weeks our understanding is that it’s all good.

It’d also be helpful if Little Baby Davison #2 didn’t show up until after we get Jonah moved into his new room. We’ve been gradually transitioning him into the green room, and if luck is with us, I’ll have half the bunk bed moved up (with Dave’s help) later this week.

We’d prefer that Jonah’s move and the new kid’s arrival not coincide. We don’t want Jonah think he’s getting kicked out of his old room as much as he’s getting a new one. I’m sure if our strategy fails there will be much crying and gnashing of teeth. And that’s just me and Erin.

Meanwhile, Jonah’s vocabulary continues to expand in both English and French. Mom has long been able to say things to the boy that he understands and I do not, and that gulf is only widening. C’est la vie. I can at least confirm that Jonah’s English skills are not falling behind those of his French. We have a lot of books where the name of the game is identifying objects, and he does a bang-up job. We’ve also got flash cards of objects, letters, and numbers. He enjoys these because I give him the cards after he gets them right. That gives him a big pile of cards to throw around when all is said and done. He doesn’t mix French and English too often, though we frequently count to five thusly: “one, two, three, four, cinq.” (Cinq being five in French.)

Jonah’s pretty happy most of the time, which helps with parental sanity. Usually it’s enough for him just to be understood and met halfway, and he’ll cease and desist. A good example from this evening: Jonah needed to get in the car so he and Mom could go grocery shopping. He wanted to watch the washing machine spin clothes and he wanted to play ball. When Mom moved the chair away from the washing machine, he threw a nutty. Confirming with him what he wanted calmed him down a bit. Carrying him over to the machine so he could briefly look in helped some more. Finally, allowing him to a take a ball with him on the car ride solved all remaining frustrations. (We did, however, have to explain that a big rubber ball wouldn’t work in the car. He happily settled for a small Nerf.)

He’s gotten increasingly helpful around the house. He shuttles items between parents without being asked twice, which is convenient. He can sort and put away silverware, after we remove any sharp knives of course. He can spot ants in the yard or on the driveway like nobody’s business.

We’ve gotten a lot of questions about whether or not Jonah knows he’s going to be a big brother. The short answer is “yes, he knows.” We’ve read several “big brother” and “new baby” books with him, and when asked where the new baby is he’ll gladly point to Mom’s bulging tummy. We’ve even taken him to some of Erin’s doctor appointments and let him listen with us to the baby’s heartbeat. (We’ve excluded him from a couple of appointments since no male, including me, ought ever have, for example, to see a Strep B test being performed. Nevertheless, I have yet to miss an appointment.)

This evening we talked about how the baby will have his/her own, smaller binky (aka pacifier). Jonah, I’m sure, loved the “smaller” part. Jonah’s also excited that he’ll have a partner in crime riding with him in back. I hope he feels the same way when baby cries the whole trip.

I guess we’ll see.