Dear Baby

I’ve come here to confess.

A few weeks ago we attempted to watch “Look Who’s Talking” - a film from the early 90’s featuring Kirstie Alley and John Travolta and a very happy looking in utero baby who just so happened to have Bruce Willis’ voice narrating its internal monologue. We turned it off about 30 minutes in because apparently our taste in movies has changed since we were 10 years old.

But the image of a baby, bobbing around in a happy womb and thinking things like ” Hey, More apple juice down here!” and “Hey, watch all that poking!” (*) has followed me ever since. So yesterday, as I started my morning off with cocoa crispies and a fruit roll up, I started feeling guilty immediately. I could just imagine our growing child, tugging on the umblilical chord and in Bruce’s gruff voice saying “What the heck mom - What kind of crap are you feeding me for breakfast?”

and then, to make matters worse, yesterday afternoon my willpower overtook me outside a Burger King and I found myself stuffing a cheeseburger into my mouth. With every french fry I swallowed, I kept saying outloud across the table to Brent “I’m the world’s worst mother already. I’ve fed our baby junk food all day.”

I even washed my prenatal vitamin down with a big swig of Sprite. Shameful, shameful, shameful.

So last night, in an effort to apologize to my mini Bruce Willis voiced baby, I ate a handful of fresh cherries, a pink lady apple, three cups of cranberry juice, and cup of balsamic chicken salad with crackers for dinner.

I know I had a moment of weakness,  but nothing but healthy, good stuff from here on out baby - I promise!

M

(*) My husband has asked that I make a foot note in reference to the “poking” comment. Poking  as in - poking my belly  as it’s growing and during dr’s appointments. He started laughing immediately and said “You better clarify before grandma reads it!” hahahahahahaha