Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Letter to My Future Son

Dear bun in the oven:

As any expectant mother would, I have so much I want to tell you. Where to start? Well, how about with the important things.

At least this would explain the baby's
excessive movements. Every day
he's shufflin'. 
I’ve been experiencing a lot of heartburn during this pregnancy and it seems that no item of food is safe for me to eat anymore. People say this means you will have a lot of hair. I don’t know if there’s any truth to that, but I guess I’ll find out if you’re born looking like the dudes from LMFAO. Mostly what I want to know is why do you hate food so much? Are you going to hate food this much when you arrive? Specifically, what is it that you have against chocolate? Is there a particular brand of chocolate you’ve been holding out for? Do you think it’s possible you just got off on the wrong foot with chocolate and how do you feel about starting over with it? These are really important questions and I’d like you to seriously give them some thought before answering. Thank you.  

Your dad thinks that you’re going to be our quiet child. The way you’ve been kicking me for the last few months makes me suspect otherwise. I think he mostly just assumes that you won’t be able to get a word in because you sister talks all the time, but honestly, it’s pretty hard to ignore someone who repeats questions or sentences until she gets a) an answer or b) the particular answer she is looking for so I think you’ll learn to talk very quickly, if only to shut her up keep her happy and quiet. Although, I should warn you that even though she’ll motivate you into talking, she’ll probably do so while making you wear dresses and make up and nail polish. I should also warn you that I have no problem with her doing so and am probably not going to do much to deter her from this. If you want some backup on this subject, you’ll have to talk to your dad. But even he won’t be much help because he usually gets roped into dress up too.

I’d also like to talk to you about when you plan to arrive in the real world. I know you’re tentatively scheduled to show up on August 9th, but I’m supposed to attend a wedding the next day so if you could help a mother out and come a little early, that would be great. You’re probably thinking that a silly little wedding is nothing compared to your birth, and though I technically agree with you, I really, really want to see Alison get married. Partially because she’s one of my best friends, and partially because she’s always been the anti-bride and I need to see it with my own eyes to make sure this thing goes down, ya know? You’re probably wondering who the hell Alison is (she is the person that calls every day to make sure Mommy gets at least a few minutes to talk to an adult and doesn’t totally lose her shit, BTW), but I promise that in the future, you will come to know her well and if you make me miss this wedding, we’ll both be sorry. That might sound like I’m threatening you, but I’m not (maybe just sort of?). It’s just that she is one of those adults who’ll sneak you candy when I’m not looking - actually she’ll have no problem doing it while I’m looking right at you guys- and will teach you how to do all kinds of mischievous things that will drive me nuts and then you’ll feel guilty that I had to miss the wedding of someone so fun because I was giving birth/had just given birth and had a really sore vagina/was too afraid to leave the house for fear of having you in my car on the side of the highway. For pete’s sake, there is going to be a bouncy castle at the reception. A FREAKING BOUNCY CASTLE! Do you really want me to miss that? Do YOU want to miss that? I promise that if you pop out early enough- let’s say no later than the 6th, just to be safe- I will take you inside the bouncy castle. Obviously I will have to do so after the children (read: your sister) have passed out under their parents’ chairs from a sugar high and before the drunken adults (read: your father) start passing out inside the castle, but trust me when I say I can make this happen for you. Do we have a deal? Kick once for no and start hiccupping for yes.

If I’m being totally honest, and I think it’s really important to be honest with your unborn children, thinking about your arrival both excites and panics me. I cannot wait to hold you (after you’ve been cleaned up and I’ve been given a stiff drink of course) and see what you look like (mostly because I really wanna know if I’m going to have an LMFAO-baby or not). However, I’m only just getting used to the idea of being one person’s mother and it’s now dawning on me that I’m going to be a mother to two human beings and that’s freaking scary. So I’m going to apologize now for all the times you’ll look up at me in all your infant glory and cuteness and see this face staring back at you. 

I think you’ll learn quickly, like your sister has, that I have no clue what I’m doing and I’m mostly making everything up as I go along. But I also hope you’ll see how much I love you. I swear to you that although I’m nowhere near perfect, I will always try to be the best version of myself in order to give you the life you deserve. No matter how many times I lose my shit what happens, I promise to end every day by making sure you feel safe and loved.

In conclusion, just remember that food and bouncy castles are your friends. (Don’t forget, before August 6th.) Oh and a few more things just for future reference – tattoos and piercings are okay but you need to at least be 18, the original three Star Wars films are the only ones worth watching, and don’t bother ever asking your dad and I for a dog. It’s not happening.

Love Mommy

P.S. Seriously. No later than the 6th, do you hear me mister?!

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