Preggy · Yoga


Meh I’ll take a picture for next time.  SORRS.  It really is pointless because I could take it, but then by press time I’d be like 4 pounds bigger.  The third trimester tummy is some serious stuff, folks.  The one observation I will make here is that you really never realize how many objects you drop on a daily basis until you are carrying around a large, globular orb between your chest and pelvis.  Yoga has been extremely helpful because picking something up off the ground requires me to perform either a yogi squat or this really ugly interpretation of Warrior 3 where I just sort violently fling one leg behind me to make a space for Frogson as I bend.  It’s attractive.  And has resulted in many objects just sort of… staying on the floor.  Because I just stare at them and reflect on how far away they are and how much exertion will be required to move them.  Any day now would be great, nesting instinct.

In very exciting news, we officially are 100% in possession of all the necessary objects to clothe, bathe, diaper, and drive Frogson around in the car.  It feels good to have all those boxes checked.  The American Express corporation is funding its Christmas bonuses because of us, but whatever.  Pending three shelves being hung in the nursery, we are ready.  Boo ya.

I continue to have caloric needs comparable to those of a large marine mammal.  Last week I was working from Panera and treated myself to a little lunch action.  They have one of those scenarios where they offer half salads and sandwiches and you can make your own combo or whatever.  It’s billed as the “Pick Two” menu.  I went up to the poor cashier and was like, “Umm, I know it says pick two, but may I… pick three?” (You can.  I like having a big baby belly.  It costs you less dignity when you make these kinds of requests.)  Three items also qualifies you for TWO sides.  So for lunch that day, fetus and I had half a sandwich, half a salad, a cup of soup, chips, and an apple.  With peanut butter.  IT WAS AWESOME.  He kicked and flipped and lurched with delight afterwards, as if to say YOUR OFFER PLEASES ME, HOST ORGANISM.

What else. I know I proclaimed weeks ago that my belly button was about to pop, but the belligerent little effer continues to hold its innie ground against all odds.  It’s all die another day suckahs, INNIE FO LIFE.

That’s it for now.  I’ll be back later, probably e-sobbing about my Group B strep test, because I have a really bad feeling about it.  I have had every form of strep infect my throat about 90 times each, so I’m pretty convinced this is going to be a bummer.  Enough whining.  First world problems.  Smell you all later.



One thought on “36.5

  1. This is my first time commenting, but I just had to after that amazeballs post. Love both the yoga poses reference – I personally feel I daily practice my goal of willing fallen objects to levitate back up to my hands – and the you pick three. Both make me feel much, much more like a normal (albeit pregnant) person. Thank you!

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