Eviction Notice.

Dear Baby #4,

This is what I look like today at 39 weeks pregnant:

See that big bump there? Yeah, that's you.

And this is your eviction notice.

Please note that at the doctor's office today, my belly is measuring 2 weeks ahead of schedule and during an ultrasound, the doctor estimated that you are already weighing over TEN POUNDS.

It's time to come out, Little Lovey.

It's time.

Don't get me wrong, I have been able to get a lot of things done while you have been enjoying your current abode. Your siblings made homemade snow globes the other day:

And T-Man and Fearless performed in their school concerts:

T-Man even had a speaking part during his program--which he delivered perfectly, using inflection and everything. You would have never known he was nervous!

And last week we traveled the 2 hours and 45 minute drive to your Grandma and Grandpa's house for Thanksgiving dinner. Unfortunately, my camera battery was dead for the dinner itself, but it was revived in time for the pie pictures.

In case you were counting, there are 18 pies there + cookies. Yum.

This is the pie that I made--Caramel Apple Cherry.

Baby #4, I really really really thought that all the good food and yummy pies were going to entice you to move out. So much so, that when I started having contractions every 10 minutes at the end of Thanksgiving dinner, Dr. C hurried and packed us all up, we got in the car, drove home the 2 hours and 45 minutes so that you could be born at our hospital and with our doctor.

We were supposed to stay at your Grandma and Grandpa's house until Saturday.

But you...you wanted me to go home. So home we went and after 5 hours of regular contractions...they fizzled. You decided to snuggle back into where you are and let me continue to be your hostess.

Thanks for that.

Since we were home early, we picked up our Christmas tree over the weekend and decorated it last night:

And since you should be moving out into the world with the rest of us soon, I'll give you a little heads up about some differences between your father and I. Usually, I spend 3-4 hours putting the 1300-1500 lights on our Christmas tree. I firmly believe that Christmas tree lights should be able to be seen from outer space. But this year, with you throwing off my center of gravity and making my belly stick into the tree, your father--who has no desire to triple our electric bill in December with oodles and oodles of lights--put 900 lights on the tree in about 45 minutes.

You can draw your own conclusions about what these differences will mean to you for your future.

Also this year, because my ability to move quickly is greatly hampered by your continuous presence in my mid-section, I let your siblings decorate the tree any way they wanted. This means most of the ornaments are at child's-eye-level. They loved it. You could have watched them and we might have even helped you put some ornaments on the tree too if you were on the outside.

If you had moved out, you could have been in this picture with your siblings.

Your father and I have been working to make life pleasant for you out here. And while your nursery isn't completely finished, we've made a lot of progress. Enough progress that you can come out now.

Dr. C painted the changing table, I recovered the changing pad, and made those storage bins from scrap fabric and cardboard. Those bins were the Pinterest project from the Dark Side. But I stuck with them because I wanted things to be nice for you. You're welcome.

I found flowers like these on Etsy for a gazillion dollars and I thought I could make them for you myself. So I did. The vase I found at a thrift shop and it was an ugly brown green color. Your father painted it white for you.
You're welcome.

Yes, I know I need to put a real picture in that picture frame. And I know I need to put some cute decorations in the bottom. But if those minor details are what's stopping you from joining us, we are going to have problems. Just FYI.

We didn't get a before picture of the crib...but it was the same brown as the other furniture. Your dad painted it for you...I made the crib skirt, the crib sheets, and the quilt.
You're welcome.

We also made coordinating cornices for your windows.
You're welcome.

Your room isn't completely finished, but after painting, sewing, and refinishing...we are done with it for now. When you come out and join the rest of the world, I will finish it.

In addition to all of that, I spent almost a whole week cooking food to put in the freezer for your family so that I could spend my time focused on you once you arrived. I don't even know how many things I made, but our upright extra freezer is jam-packed, waiting for your appearance.

And so I will conclude with the same thing that I opened with; an eviction notice:

Baby #4, you are hearby required to exit your current residence by December 10th. If you do not make this exit willingly, I will be taking more drastic measures and unceremoniously kicking you out.

This is your final notice. You have been warned.

Much love,
Your Mother