I feel as if I've neglected my friend duties lately because of end of the year stress, but now it is Friday and I'm looking forward to two weeks of rest . . . ahhhhh. I know now that my life is going to be a lot more hectic in a few months, so I might as well take advantage of it now. The baby is doing fine. He or she has been kicking the mess out of me for days. No one else can feel it but me yet, but this child is either going to be a break dancer or a gymnast. Believe it or not, since I've been really careful about eating and walking every day to pick up the car after school, I haven't gained a pound in almost two months. Don't worry, the baby is getting plenty of nourishment. I have been craving eggs and fruit. The other day I made myself a fried egg sandwich where the yolk was runny (yuuuummmmm) and it tasted so good I actually started moaning. On the very rare occasions where I've had to grab some fast food on the run, I've gotten very sick and been running to the bathroom. Unlike with Maxwell, the thought of a Big Mac kinda makes me ill.
In just a few days we will find out whether it is going to be a girl or a boy. The secretary at my school said to me the other day "Think Pink". Actually I'd rather think purple, or magenta. We will not reveal the gender of baby Flem until Christmas, however, so hold on to your hats. I know that you all are really not interested in my pregnancy body woes, but I've lost my ankles for a few months, and I've been downing Tums like they're candy. It's all coming back to me now, let me tell you. Waking up in the middle of the night coughing up stomach acid is totally disgusting. Poor baby Max had to take baby Zantac when he was a newborn because of acid reflux. Believe it or not, I discovered that the old wives' tale about excessive heartburn meaning excessive baby hair is mostly true. I'm willing to make the sacrifice, because I think that it looks a little strange when a cute baby girl is bald and wearing one of those baby headbands. I refuse to put hair accessories on my child unless they have hair to attach it to. I think that our kids are genetically doomed to be hairy, sorry baby. I'm doing well, though, and even better now that Jack has his volkswagon running again and can drive himself home from work. Woooo Hooooo! I'll post pics hopefully of Max "driving" the bug like he did the other day. He said that he was taking me to Granny's house, and made me buckle up like a law abiding citizen. See ya later!
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I hate to break this to you, but you never had ankles in the first place. Alls I got to say to you is..., "gotta-go, gotta-go, gotta-go right now."
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