Anyone who wants more direction in life can come lift things while I boss them around

Aaron snuck away to the Catskills for the weekend for a multi-day bachelor party (don't worry, I reminded him that We Don't Touch the Strippers), and in response Snuffy reset his barking threshold to High Alert and Dylan set her existence to High Maintenance. Dylan chose not to sleep much of the time he was gone, until right before he came home, at which time she took an excellent nap, then woke up happy and cheerful for her whole afternoon with him. I think I will hide all the blue and green duplos in retaliation. I guess she did watch the last 20 minutes of the Tour de France with me this morning, so maybe just the green ones.

The house rearranging and baby preparations continue. They are happening now as opposed to in October because 1) I am only going to get bigger and 2) I am starting 8 weeks of real rotations in a week, where in my experience I am lucky if I have time to make dinner once a week, let alone make room for another entire person, albeit small, to take up residence in my house. I have still managed to make my back feel maligned, which causes me to purchase ever more supportive shoes. I thought I would make fun of orthopedic shoes at this point, but then I went to some websites and all I could think about was how actually those look pretty good, so forget it.

Dylan was very helpful in Aaron's absence, and many of the house's new design features reflect her taste. For example, each of the nice wooden salad bowls is now carefully laid out on the floor and topped by a frisbee. Many of the other kitchen implements have been spread out in her teepee, which was finally evicted from the living room to the basement after 1.5 years.

I am also wading through baby clothes, which has both raised and answered some questions:
-How did one small child amass so many clothes in such a short lifetime?
-How can so many of them possibly be pink? Really, how? Have you ever met me?
-Yet, the pile of Things I Probably Won't Put on a Boy is rather small. It'll be like a social experiment!
-Also, he still has to wear all the Dylan's Candy Bar stuff. It's so cool. Wait, should we name him Dylan too? Or maybe Arby? They must have t-shirts.
-No, he will not be named Michael Jackson.
-Or Cookie Monster (Dylan I'm looking at you, because I'm not sure why else your daycare teachers think this is the main contender).
-Also, we're not telling you the name before he's born. No, we're not. Not that we've gotten that far yet.