Today was Thomas’s due date, which means at this time last year I was eating an entire bag of Cheetos every day and coming to terms with the fact that I was going to be pregnant for the rest of my life. I signed up to be pregnant for 40 weeks. Forty weeks and one day means I’ll probably be pregnant with this kid forever, and when it’s time for him to take the SATs or shop for extra long sheets for his college dorm room, he’ll do all of that in utero.
Today was my due date, but Thomas’s birthday is next week.
We’ve already started celebrating, though. There are birthday banners and buntings hanging in our living room, and I blew up a bunch of balloons
Yesterday David put all the balloons in Thomas’s crib to create what he called “Balloon Land.”
I’ve learned two very important lessons in the past year, here they are:
First, no one has ever been or will ever be pregnant forever.
Second, the only thing any one-year old has ever wanted for their birthday is a morning in Balloon Land.
Happy birthday week, Baby Thomas.