Dearest Momma,
You and I have known one another for quite some time now, so I will not sugar coat things. I have tried my best to gently remind you that I am the boss here. I understand it’s a tough transition to make but this is getting ridiculous.

First, a list of demands:
- I need some freakin’ vegetables in my diet, a kid can’t live on cheese, chocolate and granola bars. Jalapenos are great, really, and yes, momma, they are vegetables but not the ONLY ones that exist.
- Stop trying to smoosh me. You can’t sit like that anymore and you definitely cannot sleep like that anymore.
- I’ll wake up and kick you whenever I darn well please. Just because YOU won’t get any exercise, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have to! Besides, how do I know it’s 4am? Like your uterus is this whole planetary system, containing a sun and moon? Tell you what, I’ll get on your schedule when you implement those upgrades.
- Stop trying to wake me up when I’m napping!! Daddy will feel me when I’m good and ready for him to. Back off!
- Your bladder gets in my way. Empty it more often and I won’t need to kick and shove it out of what precious, tiny space I do have.

Should you choose to not comply with these demands, I will continue my current reign of terror on “that nerve” in your back. You know of which I speak. The one that makes your entire left buttcheek hurt, all the way down to your thigh. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I have upped the ante. What was once simple compression of the nerve has become pinching, riding, pulling, biting and plucking like a guitar string. I have, once, even moved over to the right side, just to show you that what you were feeling was only HALF of what could be done.

Really, momma, this is only for your own good. I have tried my best to gently prod you in this direction, but you have refused to listen, therefore I must result to terrorism. I hate for it to be this way, momma, but you’ve left me no choice.

Love,
Benjamin

Head to heels, your baby now measures about 13 1/2 inches. His weight — a pound and a half — doesn’t sound like much, but he’s beginning to exchange his long, lean look for some baby fat. As he does, his wrinkled skin will begin to smooth out and he’ll start to look more and more like a newborn. His hair is probably recognizable now (in color and texture), although both may change after he’s born.

 

Cutest blowfish you ever did see! With the longest toes, ever. 1lb 10oz.

March 11th was my darling husband’s 37th birthday. We didn’t do anything special, and he didn’t complain one moment about it. He didn’t even complain one moment about my pregnancy hormones.

I love you dearly, Eric. Happy birthday, old man.

Your baby’s growing steadily, gaining about a quarter of a pound since last week, when she was just over a pound. Since she’s almost a foot long, that makes a pretty lean figure, but her body is filling out proportionally and she’ll soon put on more baby fat. Your baby’s skin is thin, translucent, and wrinkled, her brain is growing rapidly, and her taste buds are developing. Her lungs are developing “branches” of the respiratory “tree” and cells that produce surfactant, a substance that helps the air sacs inflate easily.