Prior to this, she was the perfect tenant: quiet, clean, always paid the rent on time. I really couldn't complain about her a bit.
But now she's all big. Like, if she were born tomorrow, she's be considered "pre-term" as opposed to "premature" and probably wouldn't even need to go to the neonatal intensive care ward. In three weeks she'll be considered full term (though I'm not due for another six). She's pushing five pounds of spindly arms and legs in there. That's like ... an actual baby, almost.
And she likes to use those arms and legs. To annoy me. I'm certain she does it on purpose, too.
She enjoys ...
Shouting "HYAWWWW!" and kicking me in the ribs when I'm trying to ride my exercise bike
Prior to this week, the baby and I had a tacit understanding. At least, I thought we did. The understanding was that when I'm working out, she has to be quiet. And then when I'm being quiet, she can work out all she wants. But we can't work out at the same time, because the gym is too small and we get all up in each other's business, like the guy who tries to use the same machine you're using, suggesting you alternate sets so you have to wipe it off between sets which is just ridiculous.
The baby has broken this understanding.
Whenever I ride my recumbent exercise bike (with my legs splayed out to the sides, as I've mentioned), she mistakenly thinks that I am a horse or perhaps a mule and will thus be motivated to push harder if she delivers a few good kicks to the ribs.
IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY, CHILD.
Being kicked in the ribs is not very fun. I mean, right now go ahead and completely relax your stomach and chest. Poke your finger in right underneath your bottom rib, and then reach up and try to grab your rib like your skin is just a big oven mitt. When you reach the back side of the rib, you may find that it does not feel good. It's like a pressure point that makes you jump in discomfort.
I do not like being kicked there while I am trying to ride an exercise bike.
That is literally the only time she kicks me in the ribs like that. I think she can't usually reach because I am quite tall and could probably gestate a toddler if I wanted to (though I can't imagine a situation that would call for such an ability). But sitting on that bike and pumping my legs to the sides like an idiot? That's rib-smash time. Hell yeah.
I spent a good ten minutes of my ride the other day trying to push down on the spot she was kicking so that she'd maybe try kicking somewhere else. But as soon as I took my hands away, the blows returned.
She has the ability to tickle me from the inside
I don't like being tickled. It makes me furiously angry. One time, an ex-boyfriend decided to pin me down and tickle me, and I basically had a rage-blackout where I achieved superhuman strength, pulled one arm free and punched him in the head. I don't even remember doing it. But I did.
I really don't like being tickled.
The baby has been doing a great deal of position shifting over the past few days, and for a time yesterday she was apparently lying side to side, with her legs at one end of my waist and her hands at the other.
And she was tickling me at the most ticklish place of all: right where my waist would be if I still had one.
Little tiny goblin hands reaching up and going "coochie coochie coo!" while scratching at my waist from the inside. NOT COOL, BABY.
I eat midnight fruit snacks in the bathroom
Baby takes up a lot of space inside me, which means there is less room for all my digestin' organs. Many women have problems with this much earlier in their pregnancies, but for me the problems have just started. Basically, I can't eat a whole lot in one sitting because I get kind of achey as all the food tries to do its digestion thing while a giant troll monster runs interference.
Okay, no problem -- just eat smaller quantities, more often. I need extra calories to feed the troll monster, too, so make that smaller quantities, a LOT more often.
But here's the problem: Small dinner --> go to bed --> wake up starving at midnight --> sneak into the bathroom with a bag of fruit snacks and sit on the toilet in the dark feverishly shoving them into my mouth and hoping Jesse doesn't wake up.
Also, fun fact -- there are only two foods I eat like a prison inmate: fruit snacks and grapes. Everything else, I'm one of those one-at-a-time savor-the-flavor types. I can make a fun size bag of potato chips last an hour. But if I'm eating grapes or fruit snacks, I will shove them into my mouth by the fistful, adding more before I'm even done chewing the first round. My mouth will get so full I have a hard time swallowing all the grapes and fruit snacks I've jammed in there. I have no idea why I do this.
She scares the shit out of me sometimes
Let's say you were sitting at your desk at work, reading something on the computer, utterly silent and concentrating on your task.
Someone sneaks up behind you ... making not a sound ...
and then BAM -- punches you in the back of the head.
How would you feel about this? Would you be:
C) Startled, and then angry
If you chose Option C, then congratulations, you and I have a lot in common!
I don't know what the f**k kind of troll monster business is going on in there, but the baby will seriously go from dead sleep to SUDDEN JUMP-FLAIL in the space of one instant. I can only assume that she has woken up from another bad dream and wanted to share her startledness with me. By punching.
THANKS BABY I APPRECIATE IT.
NOW THERE IS TEA EVERYWHERE BECAUSE YOU F**KING BOO-GOTCHA'D ME WHILE I WAS SITTING HERE MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS.
blah blah blah, pregnancy is a blessing, it's all worth it in the end, so on and so forth. I am truly thrilled to be in this condition and these minor complaints are but a drop of feces in the ocean of happiness I feel most of the time.
Just knock it off with the tickling, baby, before I have another rage-blackout.
It's not as funny as you seem to think it is.