Yesterday you caused quite a sensation. I lost my mucous plug and started having contractions, and at one point they were every ten minutes for a few hours. They did calm down, but I'm still 1cm dilated, and I have some things to tell you.
First of all, I am not done shoving omega-3s down my gullet to make sure you become a Super Genius. I ended up eating salmon salad on a hamburger bun for breakfast this morning Just In Case. I'm eyeing the container of ground flax seed and trying to figure out if I can sneak it into spaghetti sauce without your father realizing it. If you could wait a few more weeks so that I can choke down some more of this stuff that would be great.
Second, your father is a chickenshit. I know, that's mean, but I needed to get that out there. When I was telling him what happened yesterday he practically covered his ears and sang "Lalalalalalalala I'm Not Listening..." It amazes me that a man who would pee with the bathroom door open TWO WEEKS after I started dating him is so grossed out by bodily functions. (To give him credit, I only had to tell him to shut the damn door once.) Also, last night you got the hiccups, and since your head is engaged every time you hiccupped my crotch bounced. I thought it was very funny, but your Dad refused to look to tell me what it looked like. I tell you all of this so that you'll not feel hurt when your dad spends your entire birth behind my head so that he doesn't see you come out. He does love you, but frankly, I prefer that he do this his way and not have to ruin his psyche by never being able to look at you without seeing your head squishing out a hole half your size.
Third, if after this week you despise spinach/artichoke dip and hummus I will totally understand.
Fourth, your room isn't done yet. Hell, your room isn't even a room yet. It's currently a storage depot for bags and boxes full of Your Stuff, and also Daddy's Drum Room. I think we should leave the drums in there for you, but your father is freaked out by the metal bars and such sticking out. I told him there's Very Little Chance that you will bonk your head or put out an eye on them for the first year, as you A) won't be able to walk for almost that long, and B) when you do finally walk you won't be that tall yet. However, your dad wants the rug in there professionally cleaned before you get here, and the drums will have to be broken down. Bummer.
So. If you could manage to hold out for a few more weeks so your slacker parents can get their game on, that would be fantastic. We do love you, and we're anxious to see you, but we both suck.