What A Week.

Hi, Simon.

Your mama has had a very rough week. I wrote an article that was unintentionally the most controversial thing since Miley's VMA performance (which will hopefully hold no meaning at all by the time you are reading this), and I received a lot of pretty terrible, hurtful responses. It was tough, and I'm seven months pregnant, and boy, have I been in a rough mood for a couple of days. The article was about some of the decisions your dad and I are making as your parents. Now, all parents have a lot of decisions to make. Some of them are harder than others, and all have consequences. For instance, I loved exclusively breastfeeding your sister, and I'll exclusively breastfeed you as well. There are some really great perks to this, like a.) it's free, and b.) I get to spend a lot of very cuddly, close time with my infants. But there are consequences to everything. With EBF, I couldn't leave your sister at all for months. She wouldn't take a bottle, and she ate every two hours for weeks, so I was practically hallucinating, that's how exhausted I was. We also passed thrush back and forth several times, because I was on a steroid inhaler for my asthma, and let me tell you - thrush is painful. Not for her, thank goodness, but for me. Ouch. I would go into detail, but I bet you don't want to hear about your mom's nipples. It was worth it to me, absolutely, but as with every decision, there were consequences.

Anyway, I want you to know that the decisions your dad and I make are made with you in mind. We make these decisions because we believe they're best for you, and for our family. We make these decisions because we love you very, very much. All parents make different decisions for their children, but all of those decisions are made out of love, and made because it's what those parents believe will be best for their children. Your dad and I love our children more than anything in the world, and that will never change. If you're ever having a week like I am, and you're feeling down and a little sad, I hope you will remember that, and I hope you will feel a little better.

Next week, you're going to take a plane ride to Minnesota with us! We're going for a wedding, and will get to stay with your godparents, Jill and Luke. This will be our last trip while I'm pregnant, because in just over a week, I'll be in my third trimester. That means you're going to be here VERY soon! Are you ready for that? I'm ready for that. (I mean, keep baking, obviously, but I'll be ready for you when you're fully baked and ready to come out.) After our trip to Minnesota, your Granny Jill is coming to stay with us, and after your Granny Jill stays with us, your Memere is coming to stay with us! We are going to have a great couple of months, and I will bake a great couple of pies, because that is exactly the time of year it is. Pie time.

I love you, Simon. I hope you know that already, and I will make sure that you know it every day of your life.

Love,
Your Mama

Double Digits!

Hi, Simon!

Today we are exactly 99 days from your due date. That makes it sound awfully close, doesn't it? 99 days! I am 26 weeks pregnant, and we look like this:

Today is a very, very rainy day, and your sister and I are hanging out in our pajamas. I'm sending out more query letters for my chapter book (a process that is kind of like banging my head against a wall for months at a time - but if you are going to be a writer, please don't let that scare you. There are some really lovely parts, like actually writing), and letting Maddie watch Blues Clues on my phone, which she is obsessed with. When she wants to watch it, she follows me around shouting "Clue Clue! Clue Clue!" Sometimes I worry that I shouldn't let her watch Blues Clues, and that we should be climbing a tree somewhere or sewing our own clothing out of organic cotton instead. But it's often raining this time of year in Washington, so all of the trees are wet, and I have no idea how to sew my own clothing out of organic cotton. Blues Clues will have to do. 

I'm tired these days, Simon. Part of it is growing a baby (that's you!), and part of it is Maddie waking up multiple times at night. And then insisting on getting up early in the morning. What's with that? Do toddlers not require a normal amount of sleep? Because while I feel very tired, and need a cup of coffee to function most mornings (don't worry - in moderation, it's fine), Maddie gets no coffee at all, and is wide awake at all times. The first thing she shouted at me early this morning was "Up! Up! Up!" Let me tell you, Simon, "up" is my new least favorite word. I hear it at 2:30am. I hear it at 4:00am. I hear it at 6:30am. I hear it when she's up from her nap. I don't want to be up, Simon. I want to sleep for about a week. But I will settle for a cup of coffee.

Back to the queries and the rain, little Simon. I hope you're cozy in there, and that you're looking forward to meeting us in (approximately) 99 days!

Love,

Your Mama

Fall, Frugality, Food

Hi, Simon!

It's October 3rd, and the leaves here are turning all sorts of beautiful colors. I'm so glad to see them, because changing leaves have always been an important part of my autumns. I wish you could see them too, but you are still in my uterus, and there just isn't a lot to see in there. A placenta. Some fluid. Your umbilical cord, I guess. And your cute little fingers and toes, which I can't wait to see in January!

This is Issaquah, where we live.

Maddie and I walk down here a lot, and before you know it, you'll join us! 

Your dad and I decided it's time to get serious about buying a house, which means we've begun a new budget with that in mind. Christmas is tough to do on a budget, but we've found some wonderful ideas about simplifying, and let's face it, Simon - if we want to have a big family, we're going to have to simplify around the holidays. One of the great ideas is intentional gift categories. For instance, rather than buying a bunch of random stuff for you and Maddie, we'll buy in adorable (and practical) categories, like "something you want, something you need, something to wear, something to read." There will be a few others (something to watch, something to create, etc.), but that's the idea. This will make gift shopping easy for Maddie this year, but not for you, because while we know exactly what you need, we have no idea what you'll want! Please forgive us for guessing. 

You and I are eating some delicious sugar cookies that my friend Abbie brought from Montana. Don't tell your sister. She's napping, and as a very wise man once said, "you snooze, you lose." We'll share when she wakes up and when your dad gets home from work. It's Thursday, and you know what that means, Simon. It's taco night! Your dad is actually a world-famous, award-winning taco chef. I am a Cholula aficionado, and taco night has been a part of our lives since before we were married. (We did skip weeks when I was dealing with pregnancy sickness, but we're back in business now, because I'm feeling pretty great. Exhausted, but great.)

Happy fall, Simon!

Love,

Your Mama

It's raining! (Alternatively titled: We live in Washington!)

Hi, sweet boy.

I wish I felt like doing more laundry, or like sorting through your sister's summer clothes. I wish I felt like cleaning the bathrooms. It's raining outside, like it has been for a week, and it would be the perfect time to get things done, but your mama is TIRED. While Maddie naps, I'm resting next to her. Laundry can wait until we're ready to get up. Until then, I'm watching The View and writing to you.

I'm 25 weeks pregnant, and you are doing some really strange things to my belly button. Little Simon, I have a feeling you aren't going to be very little at all. My bump is pretty massive, and I feel like I did when I was much farther along with Maddie. If you could just keep your birth weight under 12 pounds, I would be so thankful. 9 or 10 is just fine. 11 is pushing it. Let's keep it under control, Simon. Let's keep it under control.

At my doctor's appointment last week, I was given the gross gestational diabetes drink for my test. I get to take this one at home, which means it can be cold. (That beats the warm one I drank last time. There was a significant amount of vomiting.) My doctor and I were both surprised that it's already time for the drink. You'll be here in three and a half months! I'm almost in my third trimester! It's so strange to think about, because even though your dad and I feel much more prepared this time around, we also realize that our lives are going to completely change again, because you'll be here! We'll have this beautiful baby boy to love! Your Christmas stocking arrived last week, and it made us all so excited. (Even Maddie, who doesn't quite understand that she's getting a baby brother, but who does understand that Christmas stockings are fun to play with.)

I think I've mentioned that Maddie is in her toddler bed now, so the crib is all yours! (Not until you're about six months old, though. You'll be in your bassinet in our room before that.) She is really enjoying it. She looks like such a big girl in her big girl bed.

Just kidding. That's Beezus. She is also a big fan of the toddler bed.

Keep growing and getting stronger, little Simon. We're getting very ready to meet you in just a few short months! Meanwhile, there is laundry, and assembling your bassinet, and registering at our hospital. (We're running a little behind with that. But don't worry, we'll do it right away.)

Love,

Your Mama

Fathers and Sons

Dear Simon,

Hi. I'm your dad. You've been in there for 6 months and I haven't written to you once. I don't have a lot of excuses. Well, actually, I have about a million excuses, but none of them are good. Sure, I'm busy. Who isn't? Sure, your sister takes a lot of time and attention. Sure, I'm very, very lazy sometimes. But you are my son, and I should have made time before now. It's weird that my first written words to you are an apology, but you better get used to that, because I have a feeling I'm not going to get any better at this.

The problem is I don't know what to say to you. I'm excited that you're coming, of course, and I'm excited to meet you, but if your sister taught me anything, it's that I really have no idea what to expect. What will you be like? What kinds of things would you want to hear about? I could spend this whole time writing about walruses only to discover that you are allergic to reading about walruses. So since I don't have a lot of words of wisdom that may be of interest to you just yet, how about we start with this, if you don't mind me being a little self-indulgent.

I'm not really sure how to be a dad to a son. While I didn't really know how to be a dad to a daughter either, that was terrifying in a different way. Madeline was our first everything, and so all of the fears were about parenting in general. What do babies eat? What if I'm changing a diaper, and it's full of spiders? I sort of have a good feel for that now, and most of the really outlandish fears have been put aside, but when we learned you were a boy, it presented a whole new kind of concern.

See, I'm not really much of a guy, in the traditional sense. Let me give some examples:

• I've never been good at a single sport. When I was in little league, I played right field and picked clover. I'm that stereotypical. They make commercials about guys like me.
• I think hunting is ridiculous and fishing is just intolerably boring.
• I have no idea how to fix anything. Cars. Toasters. I technically own a toolbox, but it's the kind where all of the tools fit in some sort of vacuum-formed plastic case.

This leads to a couple of fears:

1. I won't be able to teach you how to do any of these things.
2. Despite my inability to teach you these things, you'll like them anyway, and I'll be disappointing because I don't know anything about RBIs or torque or lures.

Maybe that's how it is for everybody. Maybe my dad was like, "I know how to hunt, but I don't know anything about Broadway musicals! What if my son loves Broadway musicals?" And then I came along and I loved Broadway musicals and he just figured out how to adapt. Maybe that's all this parenting thing is: learning to adapt and love things you never imagined.

Despite all of these fears, I'm still very excited you're coming. It's going to be great, and I'll look back at all of these worries and think they're just as ridiculous as diaper spiders (which now that I think about it, should really worry you more than they worry me).

Love,

Daddy

I'll eat you up, I love you so!

Dear Simon,

We're getting ready for fall, and fall always makes me think of winter, so naturally I think of you! You'll come right after Christmas - my very best, somewhat belated gift. You're getting so big now that I can actually see you! Well, sort of. You make my stomach very lopsided when you ball up on one side or the other, and occasionally I see a little bump moving across my belly. That's you!

We traveled to New England at the beginning of the month because your Pepere (my dad) was honored with a memorial at the new fire station in Ware, my hometown. When we got back, Maddie came down with something. It only lasted for about a day, and was likely the result of her teething, but it was very scary! She had a temperature of 103.8 at one point, and even though the pediatrician on call said that I should just watch her and not worry, I was very worried. (When you are born, the amount of worrying I'll do will double! Now imagine if we have four children, which I'm hoping for. Your poor mother will have gray hair and wrinkles by the time she's 35!)

Wednesday, Maddie and I went to Toddler Story Time at the Issaquah Library. On Friday, we had our Music Together class. I'm looking forward to taking you to these places too, little Simon. It's so strange and wonderful to think about how there will be two little ones with me all the time in less than four months! We'll get a snazzy double stroller, and we'll go on all kinds of adventures. (Wait until we take you to Fox Hollow Farm. You are going to lose your little mind over their baby pigs and peacocks.)

Today we all went to the Issaquah Farmer's Market, and I can't stop eating the caramel kettle corn we bought there. It's phenomenal, but you know that, because you're squirming around like a very happy fetus.

I'm almost 24 weeks pregnant, and we've got (approximately) 116 more days until you arrive!

Your crib mattress arrived yesterday. It's a gift from your Memere (my mom). Maddie used to sleep in your crib, but now she sleeps in her Very Big Girl Toddler Bed. You'll sleep in our room in a bassinet next to our bed for your first six months, but then you'll move into the nursery with Maddie! I've been sleeping in the nursery for the last two days, because we've been transitioning Maddie into her bed, and all things considered, she's a pretty good roommate. I could really do without the 6:00am wakeup, but what are you gonna do. Maybe she'll grow out of that, or maybe you'll be an early riser too, and you won't mind. If you don't mind, and you're both into getting up super early, please feel free to entertain each other and let your mom and dad sleep a little!

Today I'm hoping to get some of your clothes washed and put away for your arrival, and I'll attempt to sleep in my room tonight, after your sister falls asleep in her bed, so wish us luck! We love you, little Simon.

Love,
Your Mama

Simon Daniel Lute!

That's you, baby boy! What do you think of your name? Your first name is Simon, because your dad and I love that name. Your middle name is Daniel, because that was the name of your dad's dad - your grandfather. Your last name is Lute, because you're going to be born into the ever-growing Lute family, consisting of your mom (me), your dad, and your big sister, Madeline.

This past Thursday, we found out you are a boy! Now, I am thrilled beyond words (!!!), but not at all surprised. I was pretty sure you were a boy all along. First of all, my pregnancy has just been different this time. Less vomiting than with your sister, but make no mistake - there's still vomiting. My belly is much bigger much earlier this time, and I've been very hormonal in a rather different way this time. (Your dad says the word is "mercurial.") Let me give you an example.

When I was pregnant with Maddie, I was weepy. I wept quite a bit. With you, I'm like a burly lumberjack with road rage. Swinging my ax to and fro, shouting obscenities at the other loggers/drivers, and only crying when I'm finished being filled with rage. I'm told it's all of the testosterone I have going on right now.

I don't know whether this is my imagination or what, but it seems as though people are less sensitive this time around. They are more likely to comment on what I'm eating or drinking, what my belly looks like, what I should have called you, what they're planning to call you, what type of boy you'll be, how my parenting will change, etc. Because this is my pregnancy, and not the world's, and because you are my Simon, and not the world's, I'll tell you about all of these things myself. I eat a lot of green apples, and sometimes I eat Kit Kats. (My favorites are the dark chocolate ones.) Oh - and veggie subs from Subway, all covered in vinegar and banana peppers. I ate those all the time during my first pregnancy, too. I mostly drink water, but once in awhile, Simon, I do have a small cup of coffee, or a seasonal latte. Seasonal lattes are some of my favorite things. My belly is big, but that's you in there, kicking and thumping and twisting around. Your name is Simon, and there just isn't a lot of room for a nickname there. (Maybe "Si," if we're really pressed for time or something. Your name is kind of like my name - it's pretty solid as it is. Madeline is often called Maddie, and your dad's name is Zachary, but everyone calls him Zach. I'm just Renee, and you're just my very sweet boy, Simon.) And what type of boy will you be? You'll be exactly who you're meant to be. No matter what, I'm going to love you forever, and I will love you and Maddie (and any other children your dad and I have) with all of my heart. Maybe you'll be a software engineer like your daddy, and you'll make video games. Maybe you'll be a trophy-winning football player. Maybe you'll be a ballet dancer or a glass blower or an architect or a teacher or a writer like your mom. You'll be my Simon no matter what you do or who you are.

Would you like to see what you look like at twenty weeks?

Crazy adorable, right? I have about nineteen weeks to go until I get to meet you, but I am so excited, little boy. Your dad is, too! And your big sister kisses my belly all the time, or lays her head on my belly and says "baby" with a big smile. When you're ready to come out and meet us, we will be so ready to meet you. 

I love you already, and please keep up the belly thumps. They're very reassuring.

Love,

Your Mama