An Update on Fatty

I’m much fatter. Like maternity pants fat. But I still weigh less than I’ve weighed since I was a fat little 4th grader. That kind of makes me feel good about myself.

I’m now 27 weeks pregnant according to computer due date calculators, which means that my baby is now the size and weight of a standard roast. If you know much about cooking, you’re probably thinking, “Goodness me!” If you don’t know much about cooking, a standard roast is like 14 inches and 2 lbs. Don’t feel bad, I just know because the computer told me.

As I mentioned in my last post, I left Brooklyn for good. Now me and Joshua live in La Plata, MO, his hometown. It’s a little more refined than I’m used to Missouri being, but not too bad a place. Plus, my high school history teacher Coach Carvajal is now the superintendent here. (Weird, huh?) Here are the important highlights in my life that you missed while I didn’t have the internet:

1. I quit facebook.

2. Josh and I bought a house.

3. I finally went to a baby doctor. She’s Russian and I like her very much.

4. We thought about getting a dog.

5. We decided not to.

6. My sister Emily got married.

7. I stopped barfing every five seconds. Now I only vomit occasionally.

8. I started to gain back the weight I’ve lost. I’m down 15 lbs from my prepregnancy weight, but up 4 from my last baby doctor appointment.

That’s pretty much it, except that Enis started kicking several weeks ago and hasn’t stopped or slowed down yet. I’m suspicious that he’s not actually a mutant but a retarded fish that hasn’t figured out it’s in a bowl yet. We’ll see when he comes out.

Here’s an important note: We don’t know what this thing is going to be and we’re not going to find out before it’s born. Joshua gets mad when I call the baby “he,” but I mean it in a non-gender-specific way like the Spanish “los” for a group of male and female. If it bothers you, too, that I keep saying “he” instead of “it” or (even worse) “he/she,” you can go suck eggs.

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