Dear Fox,

Today we enter the third trimester at 28 weeks.  Which means your daily activities include having a fist fight with my rib cage and adding more weight to your already 2 and half pound self, while mine are just celebrating the small victories like getting out of the car on the first try.

You are getting heavy.  And I am getting tired.  As evidenced by the picture below.

28 Week Pregnant Belly

You’re also a freeloader, but let’s not start off this relationship with name-calling.

Your father and I set up your crib the other night which, after our third attempt to figure out how to tie the crib bumper, caused me to pause and wonder if we’re actually fit to be parents.  You’ll be the judge of that, I suppose, but for the love of God, please don’t throw up first thing on the crib bumper.

Your dad also got his fingers stuck trying to put the sheets on your mattress so try not to mess that up either, ok?

Striped Nursery WallsBefore you worry that we’re sentencing you to a life full of only hues of brown, know that this is the bare bones.  We have lots of color to bring in and brighten it up for your viewing pleasure.  But I figured we could give these kind readers a sneak peek!

Window Decoration Nursery

Khaki Nursery Bedding

Crib bedding found at Land of Nod…my new online personal slice of heaven

We’re still rearranging your room and now, almost like clockwork, your dad will find me sitting in your nursery at 10 at night staring at the corner of the wall and pondering out loud whether the crib would look better here.  Or here.  Or next to this.  Or, hell, let’s put it out on the lawn because it gets much better light out there.  I am probably driving him nuts.  And when you’re old enough, you’ll be lucky enough to have me drive you nuts too.  And that’s when you and your dad will bond over video games in the basement.  But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Every day is a reminder I’m pregnant with you.  I still fit in my pre-pregnancy jeans, but I have long since stopped zipping and buttoning and now just cover any exposed areas with my favorite Belly Band.  I thank Baby Jesus every day for the inventor of that thing because it’s been worth its weight in gold.  I’m also still wearing heels.  And everyone from my coworkers to the teller at the bank yell at me for it.  But damnit.  Your mom can still work it.

You have switched from little kicks and punches to huge rolls and flops.  It feels like you’re taking a lint roller to my insides.  You also tend to kick me in some body part that must be connected to my butt.  And that’s weird, I will admit.

Most moms wax on about how close they feel to their little ones while they’re in the womb, but I feel like I have to be completely honest with you.  Some days you still feel like a bit of a stranger to me.  I imagine what you look like and what your little personality will be, but in the end it’s still a mystery.  One that I’m so excited to find out in 12 weeks.

Then other days I feel like I know you.  You will roll around for hours and the minute I tell your father to check it out, you will stop.  You’re a little miscievous like that.  Maybe even sly.  Your name seems to fit already.

You also like a little sugar.  That’s how I know you’re my boy.  Nothing would make your mama prouder than if you were born with a candy-coated crust, son.

We’re getting down to the homestretch here and something tells me these last few months are going to fly.  Stay healthy, little man.  We’re excited to meet you.


Your Mom