Letter/Prayer #2:

Help me give my children the best... not of trappings or toys, but of myself, cherishing them on good days and bad, theirs and mine. Teach me to accept them for who they are, not for what they do; to listen to what they say, if only so they will listen to me; to encourage their goals, not mine; and please, let me laugh with them and be silly.Let me give them a home where respect is the cornerstone, integrity the foundation, and there is enough happiness to raise the roof. May I give them the courage to be true to themselves; the independence to take care of themselves and the faith to believe in a power much greater than their own. See that I discipline my children without demeaning them, demand good manners without forgetting my own and let them know they have limitless love, no matter what they do. Let me feed them properly, clothe them adequately and have enough to give them small allowances... not for the work they do but the pleasure they bring...and let me be moderate in all these things, so the joy of getting will help them discover the joy of giving. See that their responsibilities are real but not burdensome, that my expectations are high but not overwhelming and that my thanks and praise are thoughtful and given when they're due. Help me teach them that excellence is work's real reward, and not the glory it brings. But when it comes.. and it will.. let me revel in each honor, however small, without once pretending that it's mine; my children are glories enough. Above all, let me ground these children so well that I can dare to let them go.

And may they be so blessed

I've read a series of prayers, letters, and wishes to both unborn babies and already here babies. I thought over the next few days, I'd post some of them. Some are funny and some are more sentimental. Lets start on a light note ...

Prayer for a Daughter by Tina Fey

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half and stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

Weekly update!

How far along?: 28 weeks, 2 days

Weight gain/loss: +4.5lbs. Weighed myself at home yesterday and was under my pre-pregnancy weight

Symptoms: nothing different on the pregnancy front. was sick Sat night-Wednesday and now wonder if I have a sinus infection. Uggg

Gender: Will find out in about 80 days!

Sleep?: slept pretty well this week!

Best moment this week?: had an overall pretty crummy week

Movement: when I was sick became worried since I didn't feel much movement. Now that I'm feeling better, Baby is back to its very active state

Food cravings/aversions: Still no cravings but I ate an entire box of Popsicles in 3 days!

What I miss?: Feel healthy

What I am looking forward to?: warm weather again!

Size of Baby: a Chinese Cabbage: according to Babycenter - 14.8" in length and approximately 2 1/4 lbs in weight

What I’m nervous about: taking my 3 hour test