We are all doing our best to embrace what every native New Mexican is assuring me is the weirdest. spring.ever, and what I would describe as the driest, windy-est (windiest?), most capricious weather since global climate change predicted it. We slather Anika in lotion on a twice-daily basis and all three of us feel like we've suddenly sprung a layer of alligator skin. Poor baby brother is subjected to lots of tickling thanks to my constant itching of a bowling ball-sized tummy and I never know whether to wear a sweatshirt or a tank top. To whit: this morning the mountains were hidden behind a veil of blue, and menacing clouds and high winds made for an interesting, shiver-filled morning walk. Not 40 minutes later, we are at the park sweating through our layers and belatedly spraying sun lotion on our faces.
All this means of complaining is to say that wind, sun, and 30 degree swings in temperature can really exhaust the human body. Or at least this human body. Anika is passed out after a morning spent in the great outdoors, and I'm about to make a nice home for myself on the couch. After I eat the rest of that chocolate bar I sent Armando out for yesterday afternoon because it was absolutely imperative that I have chocolate. NOW (sheesh, I'm such a preggo cliche).
Speaking of -- and if I'm going to complain about the weather then I might as well complain about this, too -- what is it with people telling pregnant women that they look "cute"?! My kid is cute, people. My bun in the oven is many things, but the oven itself is about the farthest thing from cute that I can think of. So there. Just because I look fatter every time you see me doesn't mean you have to make some sort of comment to address the obvious. And we all know you're lying, because after about 28 weeks it leaves the aw, you're pregnant realm and enters the oh my, just how much can the human skin stretch, exactly?
Ahhh, I feel better. Now, where is that chocolate?
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