and there's still a butterfly in my stomach

And we emerged triumphant! I have passed my thesis defense. The next step is to finish my revisions based on the latest sets of comments from my readers, and fill out the requisite paperwork. I took a break from the thesis yesterday and did some random cleaning and tidying, some knitting, and started washing the alpaca fleece I got last weekend. Today was mostly more cleaning, since my parents are visiting this weekend, and I was raised in a household, where, if we did a lot of cleaning, one of us would ask, "Who's coming over?" (I'm trying to get better at keeping the whole place in a semi-tidy state and it's starting to happen at least with the kitchen, but J. and I both lean towards the slightly messy side of the spectrum).

While the baby was blessedly quiet during the defense (probably listening to me talk though it's certainly all incomprehensible to her at the moment), she's been quite active over the last couple days. A while back, I ran across a description of the baby moving that I rather liked. "Like you've swallowed a butterfly." Much more interesting than describing it as bubbles. I also like the goldfish analogy. Of course, both butterflies and goldfish (not to mention bubbles) are more delicate than this child's kicks. Earlier, I lay down for a bit before I had to start dinner, was almost asleep, and then Munchkin kicked. Hard. Our little butterfly seems to be growing into something more substantial. Like an octopus who occasionally thinks that flailing is fun.