Jellybean,

It's probably not appropriate to call you that anymore - because you are definitely bigger than that by now.   

You know what?  It doesn't matter.  I'm still gonna use it.

One great thing about all this is that I get my way quite a lot lately.  I kind of like it.

I don't know exactly how to explain what life is like these days.  It's definitely more fun, now that I'm not paranoid about people finding out, now that we're married, now that we're able to finally take a breath and enjoy it.   All the real scary stuff is still far enough away that I'm not panicking quite yet. 

It was the craziest thing.  One day I woke up and felt so much better for half a second I forgot you were even on your way here.

You reminded me quick enough.  You know what?  I think I should just start to work out of the Ladies Room.

It's not as hard as you think to get a desk in there actually.  Maybe I'll look into it.  It would certainly be more convenient.

We're in a nice little routine now.  Your father read that you can now hear sounds and such so he talks to you constantly.  It's mostly at night when we're watching t.v.or first thing in the morning when we're still in bed.  And it's so strange - but I swear you know it's him.  You can be really quiet and then all of the sudden he talks and I can feel you moving around.   

It's kind of freaky how you do that.

When it first started it was like little flutters but now it's like you're swimming around in there all the time.   I remember the first time it happened I dropped my mug of tea and your father almost had a heart attack thinking something was wrong.

Don't worry.  I've gotten much more used to you since then.

By the way, your dad is the only person who has permission to touch my stomach any time the mood strikes him.  I absolutely love it when he does that. 

The rest of the world can totally suck it.  I swear I have to swat Michael's hand away every five seconds.  It's so annoying and not to mention rude the way people - even strangers - think it's not a problem for them to touch me like that.

It makes me miss the desk at reception so much you have no idea.  At least it offered some sort of protection.

Tonight we got home from work and I (or maybe it was you) was starving.  I went to grab the menu from the pizza place and for some reason when I did I turned the radio on - the one we keep in the kitchen.

Your father likes to listen to baseball on the radio.  He says that's what his grandpa used to do.  I love that about him.

There was no baseball tonight, there was just some slow, cheesy 80's ballad playing and out of nowhere your dad started twirling me around. 

By the way - let me apologize to you now Bean.  Your dreams of Broadway are destined to be shattered.

Neither your father nor I were blessed with any sort of rhythm.  

Anyway we danced around the kitchen for a while and your father sang along to the radio (how he knew the words is beyond me) which made me laugh.  I don't know if it was the spinning or the singing but I guess at one point you got sick of it and let me know it.  I got a little dizzy and made him stop, but it was a lot of fun while it lasted.

I don't even know why I'm telling you about this.  It wasn't anything special exactly but I don't know.   Tonight was good night. 

Life for us Halperts in general is really, really good.     

Speaking of Halperts, your dad is such a dork.  I guess I should tell you he's a little crazy about music.  I wonder if you'll be that way too.  He's spending hours constructing playlists that include - well - it seems to me like every single song he's ever listened to.  I can't even begin to list it all but I know it's quite a mix.  Almost every night he stretches the headphones over my stomach and pushes play.    So far you seem to be a fan of most of it so that's good.

He doesn't know but I've actually bought him a new iPod and speakers for his birthday.  He's used up all the space he has on his old one and curses every time he needs to take something off to make more room.   He'll be surprised and will probably tell me he doesn't need it but I know for sure that he'll love it.  He'd never buy a new one for himself - especially these days.

He will however find something to buy for you in any store he goes to whenever I send him on a simple errand.

I'm not kidding. You have no use for a striped lawn chair with a matching umbrella yet do you?  Well you have one for when you're ready, just so you know.  He bought it when he went to get milk at the supermarket the other day. 

That makes sense right?  It doesn't matter.  Whenever he does something like that he's so excited I don't have the heart to say anything about it.  I'm just keeping all this stuff tucked away till you're old enough to appreciate it.

I don't know what it is but lately I've found myself thinking how great it is that we live in this house.  Your room (the one that still has blank yellow walls, just waiting for me to be inspired by...something) actually used to be his.

There are a lot of good memories in this house - I know that from the way your father talks about what it was like growing up here.  It's kind of nice knowing that we're sort of starting all over again here with you.

It's odd when you start to share your life with someone, Bean.  I feel like I know him so well - but there are years and years of his life that I have absolutely no clue about. He's told me a lot but it's not the same as being there you know?  I don't know what his first day of school was like.  I don't know all the things he was scared of when he was little.  There are tons of little things that somehow I feel like I've missed.

I know the same is true for him about me but it's strange.  I feel like I should know these things.

I guess maybe I should just start asking him.  It's probably as simple as that.  I'm sure he'd tell me anything I wanted to know.

I think that's part of the reason why I'm so excited about you.  It's crazy.  You're going to be the very first person I know from the moment they were born. 

I really can't wait.

xo,

Mom

PS: I take it back.   I actually can wait.  I can wait till you finish cooking in there.  They say there's a chance you'd still make it if I had you now - but don't get any bright ideas. 

Please.  Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.  I'm going to try to too.