8 Days and Counting

Dear Maggie McCall,

You are eight days away from your due date, but that means nothing because I think something like on 10% of babies are actually born on their due date. You do what you want though, no complaints from me. Your father and I think you are going to come every day, because last night as I lay in bed, I screamed "ouch" three times in a row from pains. But then they disappeared. I don't know if you know what the term "tease" means, but I am thinking that you might be very familiar with it someday. And then this morning, you dad said "moving or just pain" and I was like "moving with pain". Which is an appropriate album title and description for the last couple of days. I guess there is nothing to do but wait. But it is so boring. I have reached the max of television I can watch, I am actually enjoying the Today Show and laugh like they are my friends and we are on this secret mission of happiness and fun together. Its sad, really sad, but that is slow descent into madness. My mother thinks that you are going to look like her with dark hair and dark eyes. Your Nana is so modest. She does not want you to have red hair, but since your Nonni has auburn here and my Nana McInnis also had auburn hair there is a good chance you can go red. So, when you are older and reading over this you can understand why Nana never thought that much of you. I kid. Maybe. Anyway, your brother Owen is insane, and if you can be half as insane as him, I will be happy. Also he was eleven days overdue. So again, I stress to you arriving early or on time, might win you votes in our future estate planning.

Your Mummy