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Hello Baby!

Baby, according to my book, at seven months you're already 3 lbs. The other 25 lbs. I am assuming is stuff you need. You better come with a Bugaboo.
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I'm looking like a cross between Tweedledee
and the Venus of Willendorf these days, seven months in, and doing my best not
to waddle. Penguins are really cute! I keep telling myself this. Maybe
I should wear a black tie.

According to my book, you're already 3 lbs. The other 25 lbs. I am assuming is stuff you need. You know how when you see parents out in
the world toting their tots around, they are always hauling baby gear
-- cars seats, diaper bags, blankets, shiny distracting objects, tiny
little tupperware containers filled with Cheerios, "binkys" (we will
*not* call them binkies), sippy cups? You must have all that gear
already. Otherwise, what's with the other 25 lbs.? You better come
with a Bugaboo.

Being pregnant has all kinds of advantages. People keep telling you
how beautiful you look. They do it over and over. Very sweet of them,
but it is just not true. I've seen myself before, and I've definitely
looked better. Trying not to succumb to the cotton jersey, L.L. Bean
maternity clothing thing. But my skin has never been clearer or more rosy.
That much is true.

More advantages: A couple months ago I was at the LA airport waiting
for a friend at the baggage claim. Her flight didn't arrive for an
hour, and there wasn't a single chair in the whole place. I saw a
security guard in a chair and went over and asked if there were any
more. She barked something incoherent at me, something about it being
a restricted area and only for security personnel. She was Not Nice.
"But I'm pregnant!" I exclaimed, and immediately she turned into
Glenda the Good Witch. She rushed into a storage room, and got me a
chair, and made sure I was settled, and asked me if she could get me a
drink. It was like finding money on the sidewalk. Since then people
have been offering me their seat on the train, opening doors for me.
They say that to the Queen the world smells like fresh paint. It's
like that. Strangers smile at me. Sometimes they touch my belly
because you're emanating good luck. Some women hate that. I don't

Chocolate. They did a study in Finland that says that mothers that eat
a lot of chocolate have happier babies. I've yet to actually read this
study, but just hearing about it is enough to convince me of its
validity. Fortunately, I encountered Vosges Chocolate recently,
and this has become my staple, along with those enormous prenatal
vitamins that are like swallowing entire dinner rolls in one gulp.

And what's with the workout? It's like you're training for Beijing
2008 Olympics in there, for the gymnastics competition, with
particular attention to the vault and floor exercise. Let me tell you
one thing. The only sport you should be preparing for is the Luge.

Baby, I can't tell you how excited we are for your arrival. That
other, deeper voice you hear all the time? That's Stewart, aka Papa.
Do you like the Mozart? You loved the hiphop they were playing at the
Japanese restaurant the other night. Jump up jump up and get down!
There is so much to show you out here: we'll start with milk and
smiling, and move on to sunshine. Carpets are great, there are these
things called carpets, they put them on the floor. It just keeps
getting better -- the tooth fairy, socks, Shakespeare, French
absurdist literature, hiking, the internet, gummy bears, Desperate
Housewives, voting. Shoehorns really help you get your shoes on. Ice.
Ice is cool. I read about how to build a really awesome snow
. We'll do that. Halloween. Freshly sharpened pencils. Flan.
Petting zoos. Planets. Words.

You're gonna love it, baby. It's a wonderful world.

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