Kindly stop kicking the crap out of my ribs. I know you're in there. No need to remind me. I know you are head down inside me, ready to work your way out. Which leaves your feet in prime spots for kicking my guts out. Your Dad is entertained, though - it's pretty easy for him to find a foot and try to tickle it through my skin. Aunt Jeanne was entertained, too, the other day when you were kicking her in the car. Good work. You can keep kicking Aunt Jeanne all you want to.
Also, if there's any chance you could make the cramps in my belly stop for another few days, I'd be appreciative. You're technically not fully cooked til Friday. So how about you just hang out in there til then. OK? Tell those belly cramps to just go away. They suck, and we're not ready for them.
We've got a few more things to do around the house before you decide to pop out, too. Grandpa brought down a bunch more stuff from your baby shower that still needs to be sorted and washed. And there is currently a Christmas tree in the spot where your glider will go, and a dog bed in the spot where your Pack-N-Play will go. Although if we don't get that set up in time, no worries. I am sure your sister CoCo will share her bed. She's cool like that. She shared it with Nana the other day.
Lots of friends and family are excited about your arrival. So come on out to see them all. Just not this week, ok? Glad we've had this little chat - I'm positive the rib kicking will diminish now, as I am sure you don't want your mom's organs to suffer any more damage.
See you soon, little boy.
Love, Mom
1 comment:
I just can't stop laughing when I read some of your posts...you really should think about writting a book on anything...and yes I used to laugh when my wife was getting kicked too John...
Post a Comment