O to the D and D

Dear Odd,

I can't believe you're still hanging in there. That's nothing short of awesome. A few minutes out of the day I've even gotten quite excited about it. But then the emotionally conservative voices in my head get all frantic and shoosh me. Sorry I'm not all squeeing and knitting you baby booties or anything just yet. It's self preservation really. And besides, by the time I learned to knit, you'd probably be learning to ride a bike. A Harley. Also? With Zube Boy's exasperating habit of poking me in the tits because he doesn't think they really hurt THAT bad and the frustration of learning a new hobby that involved knitting needles, someone would most certainly lose and eye. And it wouldn't be me. Or you. You don't quite have those yet, I don't think. And even if you did have eyeballs, far be it for me to stab MYSELF in the stomach to get to them. So, for Zube Boy's sake, we'll keep all squeeing and knitting at bay for the time being.

I've been feeling a little bad about calling you Odd, but at the same time, well, not so much. See, Zube Boy calls me honkytits and donkey legs and I call him taco head and asslips, so really, you totally lucked out in the nickname departmemt. Why, if I recall correctly, the last embryo to take up residence in my womb was affectionately called Stinky. I think we might have pissed that one off, though.

Also, I think I kind of want to make out with Bonanza for her comment about the whole fetal pole thing on my last entry. Which reminds me, you fucking rock that fetal pole, dude. Get all Zen about it and BE the pole. That's the way to go. It should be pretty easy, too, because you kind of ARE the pole anyway. For now at least.

And with the heartbeat. I so don't want to be that pushy mom. As Phil noted, I bet you are totally chill and not very excitable. Like Zube Boy. Which would drive me mad. I'm halfway there anyway, so I'll let you get away with it. Could you just boost it up a bit? I mean, I know the magic cootchie ultrasound wand probably caught ya when you just started and being brand new at the whole heartbeat thing you might've felt a little naked and all with us just storming up in there. I felt a little naked just then, too, if that makes you feel any better. I feel ya. I'll just say that I hope you've got it down, or rather up, next Monday. The low end of average would suffice. You can save going big for when you're on the outside. I'll buy you ice cream at some point in the future if you'll just do that one thing.

I was talking to My Belle yesterday and I told her that if you'd stick around for another, eh, eight months or so, I will TOTALLY hide that F you get in Algebra from Zube Boy. Because seriously, math loses me once letters are added to the mix, too. I rambled on about all kinds of things I'd let you get away with. And then My Belle suggested, "Odd can even be a Republican." Huh? What? Hm. Well, okay fine. I'll admit that one gave me pause, but hell, I'd really like you to stay. For the record, I'd prefer if you were a Libertarian or something. Because being outnumbered by Republicans in my own home would only fan the furiously burning political flame I have under my ass these days. But, that would probably entertain Zube Boy at the very least. And you, too, when you're old enough. Which, if you are a Republican, you likely will be. Just think for yourself. That's all I ask.

Well, rock on, Odd. I'm going to go to bed because your robbing me of all my energy. Which is fine by me. When I'm sleeping, I don't worry. And that's probably better for you.

Love,
Zube