The Heartburn Kid aka the cursing preggers girl
June's newest hobby seems to be heartburn. She's really into it, and is getting pretty solid at hosting the "burning heart" as we call it here. We don't actually call it that. It just sounded fun to slap that in there. June mostly calls it "#$%&ing %@?#ab!^ch neck screamers." Sometimes she isn't even so nice about it. I try to just sit there and not catch it by some weird osmosis type thing and try to be quiet and invisible until the "burning heart" goes away.
June used to be able to eat just about anything (she didn't, of course, she has superior sustenance skills, some discipline, and can be picky as a cactus) but now there's a growing list of things she won't venture for fear of the #$%&ing %@?#ab!^ch neck screamers. Things like:
Uhmmm, that's about it off of the top of my head. There's probably more but I'm only kinda half observant about that kind of stuff. When little Elli is kicking I knock shtuff over trying to get a hand on that tummy but when the randomness of inexplicable pregnant-ness gets to really hummin' I call time out and head for the sideline to consult with the coaching staff...you know, make sure I got my signals right and that i have the right play called. I usually don't.
Juney's been pretty stellar about this whole deal...swollen apendages, whatever...can't sleep, alright...tuckered out pretty easy, no worries...The whole response to massive physical trauma has me thoroughly impressed. Wait 'til she rides out Hurricane Elli in a few weeks...I'll be performing prostrations and sacrificing live animals in her honour. The girl doesn't even flinch at the notion of that junk. Kay-friggin-sarah-sarah it seems. I'd be passing out in advance just for the practice. No matter what we're talking about this funster I'm married to impresses the Nikes right offa my feet.
Not really sure what to do about the heartburn though.