... was confirmed today.
It's been 35 days and it seemed like the perfect time to take Phoebe for an ultrasound. We were hoping that there'd be fewer cuddly balls of spotted fun to grandparent this time, but that isn't to be. We saw 6 of 'em floating around in my girl's tummy. Hoping there are no more.
The hubs all but panicked, while I was secretly thrilled that I would be able to hold a few more of those delightful young'uns so soon. This time, though, I'll manage things better. Cherish my moments with 'em instead of turning into a shrieking banshee like I did a few months ago.
When I broke the news to the good lady who runs the pet products shop that we frequent, she couldn't wrap her head around the idea! It tickled her funny and we were both giggling at the prospect like tweens :)
In related news, a family solicited Mojo's puppy-making skills for their 2.5-year-old Dal named Lucky. She was a pampered brat, but I didn't mind Mojo passing on some of his baby-paste (Thank you, writers of 18 to Life!) to her because she was so fine-looking. She had perfectly spotted ears! Their progeny would be quite sought after. And, we get to keep one of our choice!
So all 1.7 of you people who happen to pass by this space every few days, pull up your sleeves, get the megaphones out and get prepared to yell at every passerby and demand that they take away my puppies by the end of January 2012. Go on, be good now.