Dear Little One,

This weekend has been a weird one for your mommy.  Over the past week, I have felt weird flutters in my belly.  The skeptic in me has refused to acknowledge that they were real.  This weekend, however, those little flutters turned into full fledged kicks and punches.  Your daddy felt one too so there is confirmation that I was not suffering a hallucination.  Since that monumental moment, you have been rather stubborn.  You kick me with wild abandon, but refuse to let your daddy feel another one of those kicks.  The moment I grab his hand and place it on my tummy near your most recent performance, you become frustratingly inactive.  Your dad thinks it's a sign that you will be a rebellious little schemer and for some reason, this amuses him greatly.

While watching the Olympics, I realized that we both share a common
bond.  I was born in a year when Canada hosted the Olympics (Montreal
1976) and you too will be born in a year when Canada hosted the Olympics
(Vancouver 2010). You and I have spent the last 2 weeks watching the best athletes in the world compete.  You seemed to really enjoy watching those ski aerialists... but mommy knows you will take up something far less dangerous (maybe basketball?).  Your dad has already decided that he will teach you to ski (as your mother is hopelessly untalented in that endeavour).  He even joked that you and I could take a lesson together one day as we would be at similar starting places.

This weekend we did a lot of shopping for you and now have all the major things bought for your arrival -- well almost.  We've picked out a crib but need to order it.  We'll do that this week. We have a stroller and a car seat so as you can see, we are well on our way to being ready for your arrival.

Love,

Mom