Movements

Baby movements at this point have become eerily similar to every horror movie I have seen where some creature rips open a person's belly and climbs out. They are basically just pressure and rolling back and forth on the inside. The little fellow doesn't have much room to move and from what I am feeling on the outside, it is a lot like when we give the dog a bath or wrap the cat in a towel to take him to the vet. They writhe around with all their strength to try to break free at some point by looking for an arm or a leg hole in that towel that just isn't there.
I have become addicted to chocolate milk in the last week and have found that enjoying one right before bed eases some of the heartburn discomfort that still shows up by about 3am, of course, but it only wakes me once a night instead of two or three times. I never thought I would enjoy chocolate milk again in my life. I really didn't care for it much when I was a kid, other than the chocolate making it more tolerable to ingest. Right now it tastes like the most delicious Rolaids in the world, so that is cool. I imagine Mr. Tanner thinks it is pretty good, and it certainly isn't bad for him, so I have been downing one about every evening. While I was out today, I picked up a bottle only to get home and realize it was expired. Thankfully, this was before I started to drink it. Had I tried drinking sour milk at this point, I am pretty sure I would puke everywhere. Actually, though, that might help to start contractions, so maybe I screwed up by reading the date. In any case, Mr. W has been assigned the task of picking up a new one on his way home from watching the sucky Bengals game at a friend's house. He is on cloud 9 right now because his horrible team actually won the game. If there is one thing I cannot seem to get into, it is the Bengals. I can see it now. He will inflict that awful team on my child and lead him to years of watching with heartache while his team sucks their way through season upon season. I would like to think that they may be a decent team again some day, but since I was not even in my teens the last time they were any good, I am not counting on it. Of course, he will already be cursed with being a Buckeye fan, which at any given time can provide the same blistering heartache, so I guess there is no point in trying to prevent it. I told Mr. W that instead of hating the Yankees, he should try liking them. At least they win a lot. He pointed out a few big losses they have had in recent years, but did have to agree, pound for pound, they have stomped on the Reds for many years. We had a similar discussion while watching Florida beat up on Kentucky last night in college football. I just don't understand how all these farm boys in Ohio and Kentucky are not stomping all over the southerners in sports. Maybe it has more to do with brains than brawn. I don't know.
We also decided that we would really like to see Tanner grow up and play something really well. Then I could be an obnoxious cheering mom and he could be the proud potbelly dad that we would be so good at being. Embarrassing our kid from one game to the next. It could be fun times. I prefer that he plays football, mostly because I enjoy watching it the most. Mr. W says he doesn't care. The only downside would be the injuries, so I need to keep drinking that chocolate milk so my little man has strong bones. Yep, watching my baby trample someone else's kid sounds like a fair shake from the heartburn and backaches of these recent days.