Your baby, now as hefty as a honeydew melon at 5 1/4 pounds, doesn’t have much room to maneuver in your belly. (Length: more than 18 inches, head to heel.)

Honeydew melon. Reminds me of the white thing your mom’s dad said quite a bit when putting together your nursery furniture a couple weeks ago. He said that your mother had him going at the next “honey do” project after putting together a piece of furniture. Your honeydew size and your honey do projects have us all hustling in preparation for the coming of the baby Rangirl.

Turns out, according to a “honey do list” is “Chores assigned by ones mate (usually wife). This list normally includes household chores or errands …” Must be a phrase from the native land of your mother’s country. On your daddy’s side, we call those kind of lists “non-existent” because we’re too lazy to really do much for ourselves, let alone our wives.

But I digress. As you know, daddy isn’t into too many fruits despite hypocritically forcing them in mashed-form down your throat. So don’t be surprised that I never held a honeydew in my life. No fault of comparing you to a honeydew this week, this is the first time there’s a fruit I should be able to comprehend in terms of size. My fail.


35 weeks today, officially 8 months. Wow. I must admit, this has taken longer than we’d like. Mommy and I catch ourselves peeking into your locked nursery everyday in anticipation. At 35 weeks the stats are at only 2 guys and 4 women offering mommy a seat in 8 months. Let’s see what things look like in there:


Comfy? Probably not.

Because it’s so snug in your womb, he isn’t likely to be doing somersaults anymore, but the number of times he kicks should remain about the same. His kidneys are fully developed now, and his liver can process some waste products. Most of his basic physical development is now complete — he’ll spend the next few weeks putting on weight.

Remember what daddy always says: your weight better be in proportion to whatever society defines a person as “not fat”. So if you end up gaining too much weight in there, you bet your bottom dollar that you’ll be working it off the minute you’re able to run. What’s that, around 3 years old or so?

Mommy is in full force this week with the insomnia and uncomfortableness that comes with the burden you bear. Hand-in-hand with that comes my constant waking up during the night these days. You really are prepping us for your birth, aren’t you missy? Challenge accepted. You will not break me. So what if there are going to be 3 female/feline in the house? I rule this ship. I’m going to be the parent that lets you cry yourself to sleep once I know for sure there isn’t anything seriously wrong with you. Shoot, our TV has volume you know. And you know daddy, I’ll bring in surround sound to our bedroom if that drowns out your whining.

But again, I digress. You gotta stop me, dear reader(s), when I ramble like that. What was I saying? Something about New York being cold this week for once during your mother’s pregnancy. Daddy’s feet are freezing. You’ll find that out soon enough when you try to sleep in our bed because of some made-up monster Tommy told you about in school. I’ll just throw a cold foot on your back and off you run back to bed. There isn’t a monster out there that can withstand daddy’s year-round cold feet. Ask mommy.