Dear Penny:  I can’t even handle you.  You are so cute.

Dear Baby:  You are due exactly one month from today.  It kind of feels like I just found out I was pregnant, but it also kind of feels like I’ve been pregnant forever at this point.

Dear Maternity Leave:  One more week!  Eeeeee I can’t wait.

Dear Hospital Bag:  KC keeps telling me to pack you, and I haven’t.  Maybe because it’s just a little too real if I do?

Dear Feet:  It feels like I’ve walked all over Disneyland in bad shoes every single day now before I even get out of bed.  I’m not a fan.

Dear KC:  Remember how you watched how-to videos on YouTube and then installed the carseat bases into both cars (and showed me how to do it correctly too)?  I love you.  (And this little lady is so lucky that you’re her daddy.)

Dear iPhone 5S:  So first my charger breaks then you decide to act all glitchy?  Annoying.  (And yeah, I could upgrade to the iPhone 6, but the damn thing is too big for my tiny hands!  It’s like you’re talking on an iPad.)

Dear Sephora:  What about how I shopped your VIB sale and bought all the things?  Good thing it was during my birthday month, otherwise I’d have some explaining to do to KC.

Dear Anastasia Dipbrow:  Um, LIFE-CHANGING.  I’m obsessed.

Dear Middle-Aged Ladies on BART:  For some reason you guys like to sit in the priority seating and ignore my almost-9-months pregnant belly (and I’m always unsure of what qualifies as a “senior” and so feel weird kicking a 55-60ish year old out of a seat).  But really, a lot of you were probably pregnant once — so… what the heck?  (But shout-out to the all the BART riders who have recently kicked people out of priority seating so I can sit down.  You guys make my day.)

Love, Chelsea