My appetite for chocolate has returned. As I type, I am eating a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream. This probably isn't a good thing. Especially since my belly has started sticking out beyond the point of concealment. I thought I was excited for that part, after the weeks of no appetite and no weight gain, but then I remembered that nothing prepares you for feeling like a blimp. I know I look like what I am supposed to look like right now. But try telling that to my ego, which is busy trying to convince me that I am the Titantic. Hopefully this phase will wear off before I start getting extremely large, and thus correspondingly more demoralized. But I am going to have to remind myself to go easy on the ice cream. Drat the return of my taste buds.
Anyway. That's about it. Because as you've probably noticed, I've been feeling remarkably un-literary for the past month. Maybe someday I'll get my blogging groove back. Then I'll regale you with fun stories about how I'm trying to decide whether or not to toilet train Madeline or how Jessie will be done with school in two months and we will be setting off bottle rockets. Fun things like that.
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