Week 21

My dear little girl,

Its funny how that before you are even born, you have already got Daddy wrapped up around your little finger. Your kicking and punching in there are now quite strong, and Daddy is enamored each time he can feel you moving around in there. Mommy finds it a bit less charming, but only because you seem to have a bullseye painted on my poor bladder.

Actually, the kicking isn't so bad. Its the somersaults that get me. I find it hard to believe that you have enough room in there for all that turning over and around, but you certainly do. And all of my vital organs get shifted around when you decide its time to change positions. It is a bizarre feeling, to say the least. A bit like my stomach turning over, but not quite that uncomfortable. It has taken some time to get used to, for sure.

You and I have now made it past the half-way point. During our last visit to see the Captain, he commented that, "Now is the easy part of pregnancy." I almost hated to break it to him, that its all been pretty easy thus far. I am sure you will make up for that at some point in your life, so I better not get too comfortable.

Daddy has been working for the past couple weeks to get the extra room and your room painted. Well, he's mostly working on the extra room - I think he is waiting on your room so that I can be there to help. Even though we know you are a little girl, we are both intent on keeping the pink and frills to a minimum. The sad part is, one of Mommy's favorite colors is pink.

Now, if only I could convince all your loving female relatives that you don't need any Barbies. At all. Ever. I will probably find myself the very uncool Mommy, but have you seen girls today? Twelve year olds wearing midrift-bearing shirts and platform shoes? The sooner you learn that the feminine ideal has nothing to do with boobs, or legs, or fanny, the happier you will be. I just think keeping you away from Barbie, and any barbie-like substitute, is a good idea. And if that excludes me from the cool mom club, so be it.

I will happily get down off my soapbox now, thank you very much. Please be kind to Mommy's vital organs while you're doing all that moving around in there. And when we get home for Christmas, and your Aunts all want to feel you moving, please give them a good kick or two. Otherwise, I will have three hands permanently attached to my belly through the entire holiday.

Love,
Mommy