s, I’ve done it again. I’ve gone and gotten myself all knocked up, and this time I have decided to make sure I am at my most plump and uncomfortable during the most scorching months of the year, as you do.
Not that this was primarily my doing. Nor, quite frankly, was it the result of a moment of complete mental clarity. However, as I am ripping off the proverbial progeny band-aid, and putting the gag-worthy diapers and crusty fingers all up in my grill phase behind me on a faster time table than once thought, we couldn’t be happier.
I’ve made it to 16 weeks. That, my friend
s, is only 24 weeks away from margaritas with the girls courtesy of frozen breast milk and a stealthy get away in the night. And since I know you’re not counting, I’m due on October 25.
Speaking of the girls…I am very glad to say they are back. And since this is the last time we will be together, it will be very hard to convince me that my B-cup doesn’t make a fantastic push up bra at this stage in the game. I know where they are going after this, and we’re going to enjoy one another’s company more fully this go ’round.
May I reiterate that this is the last time we are doing “this”?
Last time we did “this”, my uncontrollable craving for square-shaped fast food burger patties coupled with my weakness for eating seven cupcakes in one sitting (they were angel food cake!) lead to a 20 lb weight gain by this stretch marked point. My crippling need for black bean burgers, peach flavored water, and apples this time not only has sent up a big, red WTF banner…but has also happily resulted in only 7 lbs of gain. But don’t be alarmed dear reader
s, I just celebrated that victory with two single-serving bags of sea salt kettle chips.
We’re in the painful process of converting Boogie’s playroom into a nursery, a prospect that is at once daunting and at the same time cause for celebration as I can justify packing away all of her toys with tiny pieces…for the safety of the new baby since the safety of the pads of my feet pale in comparison.
Being a parent of two, that’s like woah.
devil horns | mel