Dear Baby

Dear Baby,

I suppose if you were to read back on the last few posts, you might be having some doubts about actually making your debut from the loins of such a frazzled, worrywort of a mom. Because I want to calm any fears (and ensure you actually do come out) I wanted to talk about the things that make me happy when I think about you.

1. You are going to be so small that you might actually fit into those preemie-size outfits of Avery's I accidentally shrank in the drier.
2. You are going to be the most photographed infant on the planet, next to Anne Geddes' kids, and I won't put you in any of that creepy cheesecloth.
3. Judging from the way you respond to ITunes, you're going to have your father's taste in music. Why that makes me somewhat sad (no JT, little one?), you dig soul singers and really seem to like Amy Winehouse's Rehab which makes you a hipster - and you haven't even been born yet.
4. I'm going to get to introduce you to the pleasures of taking nice, long baths. If you can hold my New Yorker, it's yours.
5. You are a smooshed up grabbag of traits of me and your crazy hot, wonderful dad, and I can't wait to spot them all as you grow.
6. You will be proof that I can start and finish something.
7. You will also discover the pleasures of eating, and I will do my best to make sure that after "mom" and "dad," papadum will be your first word.
8. If I don't go crazy and runaway with you back to LA, you're going to grow up surrounded by family and an awfully adorable cousin.
9. You're going to be my sous chef.
10. You're going to be out of my belly and in my arms very soon. My back is particularly excited about this. It stops my heart sometimes, but I think that's only because like my uterus, it's getting ready for a pretty major workout.