Dear Baby McG,
When your daddy and I found out we were pregnant, we were thrilled. Overwhelmed with gratitude and a crippling sense of responsibility, we didn’t know what to do next.
So while you were a freshly baking fetus, just 5 weeks incubated, we went out and bought you a house!
It was an impulse buy, made under duress, but a good one. (Mama was getting pretty damn tired of sharing a bathroom with Dad and schlepping groceries and your brother Purnie up and down an elevator, all to live in a tiny downtown condo. A house out in the country, with views of rolling hills, is a welcome, thrilling change!)
Several months later, this big ol’ pile of sticks—the house being built specifically for you!—is just about ready. We move in this weekend, so we have just one favor to ask of you…
Baby Girl, please continue baking for a few more weeks. Don’t make your debut too early—Mama’s got chandeliers to hang and a nursery to decorate. Your crib will be delivered next week and as soon as we move in, I promise I’ll assemble all of the accoutrements you need for your new out-of-utero life. Diapers, a mini bathtub, stroller, a mobile, baby shampoo… all these purchases we’ve been strategically putting off until after the move, hurray!, we can finally make!
So keep percolating, little one… we need a few more weeks to chaotically catch up to the other hyper-organized, fully prepared expectant parents.