round two | oof + 32 weeks


for my birthday, joe took me to brunch at sweet chick in the city. i ate my weight in fried chicken and followed it with a nutella and cream cheese sticky bun. afterwards, we went to MoMA and laughed our way through the museum like a couple of immature teenagers. i think in a past life i used to be an art person. but now? i just notice all of the boobs and tend to wonder how some things even qualify as art.

mind you, i think that every scribble my toddler makes is genius. so, take my opinion with a grain of salt.

anyway. the two pieces that stuck out to me were these:
the top installation (or is it a sculpture?) reminded me of a pig snout, which, i found appropriate and quite applicable because i snort and grunt a lot at this point in pregnancy and, well, there's the obvious: i eat a lot. it could actually very well be intended to look like an electrical socket but, since art is subjective (so they say), i'm going with pig snout. tomato, tomahhhto.

the bottom painting is much more literal. it perfectly sums up how i feel at thirty-two weeks pregnant. oof. most days i feel like i've been hit by a freight train i see coming from a mile away yet i can't avoid it. my hips ache and shoot pain down my legs, my lower back feels broken or that it needs to be broken to relieve the pressure, my boobs are just obscene, i have insane heartburn in the evenings if i eat anything larger than the size of a fucking crumb or anything more acidic than milk, and i'm convinced that edie is trying to claw and head-butt her way out of my womb. i can't even talk about the belching and other exiting of bodily gas. putting on shoes which require tying of laces has quickly become comical and nearly impossible.

(ps. birkenstocks are in my near future.)

and sleep? just fuhgettaboutit. as a result of the insomnia and sudden bouts of narcolepsy throughout the day, i cry a lot. cute puppy? tears. i'm hungry? sob. marlo throws a tantrum? cry again. realize how insane you're becoming? cue the waterworks. i've succumbed to being a one-woman hormonal, sleep-deprived circus with a very quick fuse and i can only hope that it gets better but i've accepted that it probably won't for the foreseeable future.

but on the bright side, mo is becoming increasingly ecstatic about becoming a big sister. almost every day we have a conversation about when edie will be here. (just so you know, "i have no idea" rates as generally unacceptable as an answer for a toddler. i can't even get into the conversation about WHY i have no idea when she'll be here. that was mind numbing.) however, with her increasing excitement surrounding edie, she's become equally protective of me and weary of edie's intentions.

just last night, edie gave me a swift kick to the ribs which immediately doubled me over in pain and resulted in a few deep breaths and grunts. mo marched right over and thumped my stomach to seemingly grab edie's attention all while shaking her finger and scolding, "don't hurt my mama, baby edie cooper! dasss not nice! you better not hurt me when you's born!" siblings, man...

thirty-two weeks, kiddo. fifty-six or so more days until i meet this little being. then again, it could also be something like twenty-one or twenty-eight or thirty-five more days because, hey, why not keep it interesting to compete with how much physical fun i'm having.




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