Dear Baby . . .

Dear baby: I know someday you'll be able to read. And I want you to know what my "I-absolutely-hate-my-dead-rotting-fish-tasting-vitamin" face looks like.

Still, I slug back that sucker each and every night. You'd better be thankful, baby. Grow healthy and strong. With all the benefits DHA affords you. Because your mom certainly could do without all the stinky fish oil!

Oh, and your dad keeps bragging about his ready-to-pour imperial blonde ale. Of course, because I love you so much, I won't be drinking any until after you're born. (I may have snuck a modest swig, though. Just to assure him it tastes OK. I'm sure you won't mind.)


Also: Remember when we gardened for the first time a couple weeks ago?


It seems an apology is needed. I read this morning that playing in the dirt without gloves is a mommy no-no. Cats and other animals like to hang out in messy patches and breed listeria-causing bacteria. I swear I didn't know.

I promise I'll be much more careful next time.


There will be many more apologies over the next 25 weeks -- I'm sure. I can't tear myself away from books about all the shoulds and shouldn'ts, how you're growing, what your arrival might be like (ouch!), what you'll be eating (mostly from me!), and how our lives will change.

For now, I'll keep doing the best job I can. And I'll be sure to try and add some more greens to my diet. For now, I hope homemade graham bars with chocolate and nectarines will suffice.

Tune in tomorrow for the 15-week video post!

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