Baby is the size of: A camping lantern. Which reminds me that I really want to go camping at least once before this summer peaces out. Though the idea of sleeping on the ground in my condition is less than desirable. Is it still considered camping if I bring my king-sized bed along? Is it still considered camping if we just stay home and open our windows and put Crosby’s sound machine on the “forest” setting? Is it still considered camping if I do none of the above and just eat 12 s’mores in my backyard?
Weight gain: I still have no idea. But I can tell you that the act of bending over has started to require some serious planning and deliberation.
Cravings: I eat ice cream almost every night. So it’s safe to say I’m not craving spinach.
Movement: Every once in a while, baby girl will hit/kick/punch my… uh… southern region. You know what I’m saying? To give you a hint, it rhymes with shmervix. (Heyo!) Other pregos know what I’m talking about? It’s a sudden, sharp pain that sends a shock wave through my legs and simultaneously makes me feel like I’m going to pee my pants. It’s really uncomfortable AND it almost always happens in public. So what I’m saying is if you ever see me out and about and I suddenly look as though I’ve been drop-kicked in the v, it’s because I HAVE.
I feel as though I may have crossed a line with that one. Are we still friends?
Symptoms: My gums have been super sore lately. Which could be pregnancy related, or it could be because I have a dental appointment coming up and I’ve been flossing more than normal in anticipation of it. Anyone else guilty of this?
Missing: Beer festivals. The epitome of summer in Portland.
Happenings: We have done so very little to prepare for baby girl’s arrival. Like, nothing, actually. But we leave for MN today for two weeks and I’m confident that by the time we get back to Portland I will be in full nesting mode. If nesting mode means being curled up in a ball eating ice cream.