Last night I went to my parents’ house for dinner and to help put up their Christmas tree. We finished up by placing the tree skirt, with Mom on her belly at the back of the tree and my on mine at the front. I guess I don’t spend much time crawling around on wooden floors anyhow, but it was the first time I felt genuine discomfort, like there was something tough in my abdomen that wasn’t going to squish in any deeper. Evie is spreading out.
Nonetheless, it appears that the papaya or doll is big enough that there’s no such thing as “flat on my stomach” anymore. I couldn’t do the Worm, for example. I never did before, but even so. Compromises must be made. I can’t eat raw sushi, drink at the company Christmas party (sigh), or ride carnival rides, and now I can’t dance on the street for extra cash. Parenthood is no joke.