Burritos and full frontal. And a cat.

I had Chipotle for lunch today.  I haven't had it since we moved to Plano - so that's a good 120 days without a burrito in my belly.  That was remedied, and now I feel siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick.  Ugh.  Regrets.  I probably would not feel this way if I had a smidgen of self control and stopped eating when I was full.  But no.  Especially when it comes to Chipotle.  Do I look like the kind of girl who doesn't finish a burrito?  I think not.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, no one even knows I have a burrito baby because my body is morphing into the Venus of Willendorf.  For all of you who weren't art majors (and therefore are probably much more successful and rich than I'll ever be), this is the old gal:

Sorry I'm not sorry for the full frontal nudity.  It's ART, people.

Pregnancy is a beautiful thing, eh?  I'm in the third trimester - 31 weeks, what what!  That means 9 weeks to go, and maybe less if Gummy comes early and maybe more, if God hates me.  I have completed a billion classes at the hospital and am full of information and visuals that probably will be useless when faced with an actual baby but for the moment make me feel like at least I'm semi-prepared.  

 
The garden survived!  It's in full bloom and we're starting to get actually veggies!  

It's been super touch and go and I've made a million mistakes, but next year my garden will be the shiz.  I've picked zucchini and green beans already, and we've got okra coming in and tomatoes too.  All these veggies will be great when I need to stop being a pig and shed this baby weight.

Fourth of July is coming up, which means fireworks and parties and me reprising my semi-regular role as  designated driver. Nothing says "AMERICA!" like a ice cold...water bottle.
Happy Independence Day people.

God bless America.