Relocation … what’s next?

Well it’s been almost five months since I last wrote, and so much has changed since then. Where I thought you’d be growing up isn’t where you’ll end up growing up. My job got relocated to New York City and your mom and I decided not to go with it. Instead, we’re going to move back to where we grew up so you (and us) can be closer to family. I think you’ll like it there (much more so than when I was growing up there). We’re still trying to figure out if you’ll be born up here or down there, but it’s not really important. Another big thing is that we found out you’re going to be a girl. I’m very excited, although a little worried too. I didn’t have any sisters growing up, or even any girl cousins really, so I have no idea how girls work, so if I mess something up, consider this my first apology. You’re mom and I have registered for your new baby stuff, and the shower is this weekend. I still can’t believe I’m going to be a dad … you’re dad no less. I am really looking forward to reading to you and with you. I hope that you like reading and much as your mom and I do, but if you don’t, then I’m sure you’ll have some other way of occupying your time. I talk to your mom’s belly. I hope my voice isn’t too loud for you in there. We played you some Bach performed by Yo-Yo Ma. We put the earphones up to mom’s belly and you started to move a lot. Then we read on the internet that you had a good sense of hearing and that the loud noises were just as likely to upset you as make you happy, so we decided to just play the music and let it filter through the belly. I’m really excited about you being born in just a couple of weeks (7 to be precise). I remember when I was a little kid, maybe 7 or 8, it was 8 weeks until my birthday and I could hardly wait. Every week gone by made it that much closer to my birthday, but it just couldn’t get here fast enough for me. I would look back on that experience through most of my adolescence and say, “If I could wait 8 weeks for my birthday then, I can wait X weeks for Event Y to happen now.” I didn’t think I’d ever do that again, but I find myself being very impatient for you to make your entrance to the world, and saying to myself, “If I was able to wait 8 weeks for my birthday then, I can wait for little Abby to be born now.” That’s right … you’re going to be called Abby, well actually Abigail, but we’ll shorten it to Abby. I also really hope that you’re born before the start of baseball season so that you can watch your first Dodger game and have it be the first Dodger game of the year. Grandma Paula has even knit a Dodger blue blanket for you. Well small stuff, I should go. It’s late and I have to get to work early tomorrow. I’ll try to keep this up a little more now, but life has a funny way of getting in the way sometimes. I love you.