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Dear little man,
We're 37 weeks today, you and me.
I had my first craving a few days ago.
The I-can't-live-without-it-even-though-I-really-could-there's-no-way-in-heck-I-want-to kind.
I started thinking of a Philly cheesesteak mid afternoon and by 8 at night I had to have one.
It wasn't live or die, but it felt pretty close.
I got a 10 incher, totally unashamed at the larger then it should be size, and ate the entire blissful thing.
It was pretty close to heaven and it took everything in me not to drive back down to San Jose the next day and get another one for lunch.
Last night you were acting kinda funny.
I'm pretty sure you were scooting a bit lower because for about 3 hours in the middle of the night we sat up you and I as you squirmed.
I ate poptarts and you slowly inched your way down. Your kicks went from being up around my ribs to about belly button high.
I'm super hoping that means you'll be making your appearance sooner then later.
I feel like I'm running against the clock trying to get everything done, and at the same time I can't wait to meet you.
Finn has been practicing with your soon to be buddy Broderick and doing such a good job.
He's going to be such a good big brother.
We got cribs and hung more photos and rearranged you and your brothers room in the last week.
I can't wait to show you it.
I love you sweet boy.
Hugs and kisses.
Mama
