Twenty-Something For One More Year...

Dear Little One Floating in My Gut,

You may have wondered what all the raucous was about on Saturday. Perhaps you were resting peacefully and then noticed all the hubbub. Did you sit up straight in all that amniotic fluid and say, "Hey, what's the dealio? We haven't sat down since forever ago! What's all those goofy voices? What all that loud wisecrackin' and hip hoppin' music?" Well, we had a shindig for your dad's birthday. He's 29 years old.



There's mommy! In this photo, I'm glowing--both with the glow of pregnancy AND all those freakin' candles! Next year, we officially switch to the candles shaped like numbers.



There's dad! This is attempt #1 at blowing out the candles.



And here's attempt #2. Geez. Perhaps you'll inherit your father's lung capacity. If that is the case, you'll probably just muster up a disgruntled sigh rather than scream like a banshee when you require changing and feeding.



And LOOK who got a gift for dad's birthday--YOU DID! It's your very first Onesie and political statement all rolled into one. By the way kid, in case you haven't caught on, your parents lean left. And if for some reason you grow up and decide to rebel by voting Republican, we'll still love you. Just don't call us, "Dirty Hippies." We're not dirty. Your father and I believe in good hygiene.

Oh, and with all the kicking you've been doing lately, Dad's going to start calling you, "Vinatieri." Don't worry. I won't let him put it on our 'baby name list.' Promise.

Love you,

The Mom & The Dad

For more pictures from Jakob's Birthday, visit Flickr