Dearest Cousin Anna:
I felt compelled to write this apology letter to you after spending the weekend mauling your five month pregnant belly. I know this was highly inappropriate, but everytime I saw you and your cute little bump I couldn’t help but rub and tap and admire it. Awkward, I know.
Also. I realize now that discussing my episiotomy experience and how to avoid having one yourself before our BBQ Pulled Pork dinner was in bad taste. What did you think of the coleslaw?
Um. And I guess trying to shove seven years worth of parenting advice down your throat before you’ve had your glucose test was probably a bit premature. The whole Time Out vs. Redirection debate can be had another day.
And I suppose while we’re at it, I could have tried to avoid the play by play descriptions of the birth of my two sons. Again. Because even though I had an epideral with Monchichi and felt like crap after and then birthed Superman naturally and felt like a God after, the choice is entirely yours. I know you will make the right one. The RIGHT one.
Though now that I think about it, I did forget to mention a few things, such as the various breastfeeding positions, the statistical data on and possible treatment options for Postpartum Depression, the best food processor for making your own baby food, the importance of taking midafternoon naps, and of course, the fact that you will never ever ever ever come First again. Ever.
But. There is plenty of time for all of the small details, because you aren’t due until November and our weekly phone conferences from now until then will probably cover most of what you need to know.
I am a wealth of knowledge and experience.
You Are Most Welcome.