Listen here, girly...

Dear baby,

It's 3:55am and it seems you require my attention. At least, I assume that's the purpose of all your kicking and punching. How can I help you? Would you like some orange juice? Some hot milk? Perhaps a story?

hmm... scratch the story. My Kindle is out of juice because someone has woken me up at silly hours the last few nights and the only way I can fall back asleep is by reading. I suppose I could go find an actual book (you know, the kind with paper) but that would require getting out of bed and walking into the living room. Not unreasonable except for the fact that there may or may not be a mouse lurking in there. Your dad set some traps but this is a sneaky mouse who keeps eating the food off the traps without triggering them. Such a tricky little bugger. So yes, I think we'll stay right here with the door closed and I'll just tell you about the last week...

Let's start with the most exciting part first! On Wednesday I did some really fascinating research into whether or not a U.S. resident was subject to excise tax if they weren't invoiced for a premium payment in an international indentured bond. (huh. I think that might have just put you to sleep... totally understand. me too.)

oop... there you go kicking again. Guess that didn't relax you. I'm going to take this as a good sign. That taxes and finance irritate you. I fully support this irritation.

So let's move on to the truly fun news! The best part of the week was learning that all signs point to you being a healthy baby! You are right on point for size of head, tummy and legs. You have a very low risk of chromosomal disorders and you seem to have ten fingers and toes. This is fantastic. We are quite proud of you! Keep up the good work! Grow Grow Gadget Baby! (your dad and I might have been quoting Inspector Gadget this week... feel free to make fun of us in a few years, we can take it...)

The other truly exciting news was the doctor's suspicion that you are a GIRL. G-I-R-L!

Which. Wow. I don't know why but I was convinced you were going to be a little boy. I hadn't gone so far as to start calling you "Lil Louie" or "Lil L" - didn't want to confuse you if I was wrong - but... all the same I just KNEW there was no chance of you being a girl. So much for mother's intuition.

After I processed what the doc said, a million random things popped into my head...

First came the standard little girl thoughts. I had images of adorable little polka dot dresses and pigtails. Wearing the pristine little outfits that your cousin Jordan grew out of too quickly too wear.



Did you know that Polo makes BABY GIRL dresses? I sure hope you like this style becaues you'll be wearing it. A lot.

 Then I thought about you getting older and taking you for sleepovers with Jordan (fyi: she's awesome, you are going to totally love her and think of her as a big sister. Except better because you won't live in the same house and steal her makeup so you'll fight a lot less when you are in middle school.). I pictured basketball games and dance recitals (I'm hoping you got my athlete genes and your father's rhythm).




      

         Spencer genes should help you here.

 

... and hurt you here. You'll need a lot of Keppler in you for this to be possible.




And then I thought about you getting much older. And things started getting ridiculous. I had a few panicked moments where all I could think about was a 16 year old you screaming that you hate me and how I just don't understand and that I'm the meanest person in the whole world for not letting you go to the movies or buy the trendiest - yet totally inappropriate for a young lady- outfit. I worried that you would be an awkward teenager with no friends. OR WORSE. That you'd be confident, social AND popular.... agh! BUT. Then I remembered that those days are still at least a decade away so there's no sense in worrying about it quite yet. Let's get you out of diapers before I worry about the length of your skirt and whether or not you have a date on Friday.


Hmm... seems like you are finally settled. Perhaps my crazy, nonsensical tangents relax you? This could be an excllent thing.
Anyways. I think I'll take this opportunity to grab some shut eye as well.

See you in 21 weeks or so.

Night :)