I’ve started to get to the point where I can no longer pass the pregnancy off as a fondness for Christmas cookies and beer.
Since I didn’t eat much the first four months, up until last week I hadn’t gained any weight.
But apparently, Baby Beast is making up for lost time, and he’s chowing down.
In fact, this week he has this new thing where he repeatedly punches my stomach if he’s hungry, until I feed him or else become nauseated from lack of food. Today, this resulted in eating something small every hour or so to avoid being pummeled.
Possibly, it is an advanced form of baby-communication, like some prenatal version of Morse Code, and I should be impressed.
Although, judging from his interests thus far, he is probably just spelling out C-H-E-E-S-E-C-A-K-E-N-O-W or something similar. Or, he’s inherited his father’s stellar sense of direction and is giving me detailed instructions on how to get to the nearest Outback Steakhouse.
Actually, Outback sounds pretty good right now.