Dear Baby
There's another blog I sometimes read, called Birthing Beautiful Ideas. Although I find her slightly more "crunchy" than I, she comes across as quite moderate and I love her humor and insight. During her last pregnancy, she did a series of letters to her growing child that she titled "Dear Baby." Today, as I was having a personal rant, I found myself ranting to my baby. Because I began my talk, "Dear Baby" I thought I might shamelessly steal her concept. So, here, for your reading pleasure, is my first "Dear Baby."
Dear Baby,
You are roughly 5 weeks old today (counting the very weird pregnancy way in which you are 2 weeks old before I even conceive). Do not ask me why they make us all lie to each other this way. It is the medical establishment and I have no control over them. Maybe someday you can grow up and make them all see reason.
Anyway, I want you to know that I love you. And to prove how much I already love you, I am eating a salad. See, I am a lover of almost anything sweet and carbolicious and I am a HUGE fan of comfort food. So, when today turned into an extremely stressful day, all I really wanted was a big, honking glass of McD's sweet tea, followed shortly by nuggets slathered in sweet n' sour sauce, fries slathered in said sauce, and a shamrock shake. But I didn't. I had a SALAD! Because I love you.
Love,
Mom
Dear Baby,
You are roughly 5 weeks old today (counting the very weird pregnancy way in which you are 2 weeks old before I even conceive). Do not ask me why they make us all lie to each other this way. It is the medical establishment and I have no control over them. Maybe someday you can grow up and make them all see reason.
Anyway, I want you to know that I love you. And to prove how much I already love you, I am eating a salad. See, I am a lover of almost anything sweet and carbolicious and I am a HUGE fan of comfort food. So, when today turned into an extremely stressful day, all I really wanted was a big, honking glass of McD's sweet tea, followed shortly by nuggets slathered in sweet n' sour sauce, fries slathered in said sauce, and a shamrock shake. But I didn't. I had a SALAD! Because I love you.
Love,
Mom