Letter #1 to the Kid

Kiddo:

It's time. It's really really time.

It does seem like yesterday I had this phone conversation with your mom, E, my very best friend from high school:

Your mom: "Well, I have something to tell you."

Me aka Aunt A: Oh. My. God.

Your mom:

Me: Oh. My. God. Oh. My God.

Your mom: "I'm pregnant"

AHHHHH. In that one sentence, our entire friendship flashed before my eyes. I suddenly realized that we were onto the next level. We were becoming, eh-em, the OLDER generation.

My excitement was more then I could contain. I was screaming with delight. She was laughing on the other line, saying she couldn't wait to tell me because she knew my reaction would be the best.

I wanted to run to her house. Give her a hug and make her some broccolli. You will like broccolli won't you? Because it's quite good for you. All that folic acid and stuff.

(And if you don't like red wine, well don't blame me! I tried to tell her it was good for you but...)

I'm not quite sure what you're waiting for. I could not think of two cooler people to be parents.

Your dad D is a basketball fanatic. He's also a fantastic coach. I felt bad when I laughed at him when he suggested he was going to run for town council.

You can probably make fun of him about it because, well, dads are nerds and geeks and say really embarassing things so I'm sure him being a councillor will be totally embarassing but you'll learn to deal.

I only laughed because I remember your dad in high school and not the man he has turned out to be. He is a dedicated member to our Small Town and it would be lucky place if he put his energy into making it better. Once you become a teenager, though, you will probably most definitely think him un-cool. That means he's doing a great job at being a dad.

Your mom is a person who is instinctively a mom. So responsible. So caring. So attentive.

She listens. You can ramble on for hours - drunk or sober, although I would not recommend getting drunk in front of your mom until you're AT LEAST 30 because well, just leave the drunk rambles to me - and she will sit there, with a sympathetic face, just hearing you. When you finally finish, she will say something that just makes it all better.

She gives advice. But not the kind that makes you want to freak out because someone is telling you what to do. Just real honest advice. And you find yourself taking it, because it just always makes sense.

Makes tea. First lesson: Tea really does fix everything. Period.

She makes cinnamon rolls for goodness sake. Will you not be the hippest dude on the block? Chicks will also dig it but again, no worrying about them until you're at least 30.

She's totally laid back. I doubt you'll get in trouble, like ever, especially if you're cute, which I have no doubt you will be. I've never seen her yell at anyone, although you may want to check with your dad about that one.

Most importantly, whatever life event/adventure you decided to embark on, she will always be there for you.

No. Matter. What.

She will always be as excited as you are. She will always take the adventure "with" you. She will never be jealous or envious. She will just always be happy for you.

I don't think you realize how set you really are.

So the reason why I'm writing to you today is that you're almost a week overdue and my head is going to explode soon if you don't hurry up and make an appearance.

Your mom and dad have been very patient. Your grandparents have also been very patient. Your Uncle M and Aunt R have been waiting. You big bro C the doggie is waiting to leap on and lick you.

Your Aunt A has also been patient. She has missed your growing She has missed your mom also growing. She will also miss your arrival. All of these things tug at her heart to the point that she thinks of busting out the plastic and getting a cheap flight home just to see your tiny, newborn face.

So, before I sink myself into further debt, please appear little dude.

And don't think that's the last bossy letter you'll ever get from me.

It's only just begun.