Luke...

It should be rather, Olive.... I am your father.  That's the nightly game Gene plays with Olive.  He sticks his face into my belly and talks to Olive.  Usually starting off with the classic line, Olive, I am your father.  Its pretty cute, and funny.

Then he tickles my tummy with his tongue and I can't help but bust out laughing.  Poor Woody always wants to rescue me.  The scruffy beard also tickles, but its the raspberry blowing (or zerberts if you're a Cosby kid like me), really get me going.

He listened to my belly for a long time last night.  Trying to feel kicks.  She's stubborn right now, and won't respond.  I hear that's normal.  I'm sure they aren't quite aware yet where that poking and jabbing is coming from.  I can jiggle my belly and in 10-15 minutes I might feel a kick. 

I'm loving this experience.  Just one more week till our anatomy scan and we get to see her again.  I think we are coming to a consensus on a name.  I heard Gene call her my first choice last night.  I tried not to act shocked or gloat, but it was good to hear her called something more prominent than Olive.  Or Gesa, or Peanut, or Precious Miracle, or Princess.