I now repent of my bad thoughts. With a very, very long two months to go before the watermelon gets removed from my innards all I want to do all day is lay on that same couch and have Kathleen bring me drinks of water - only that she'd probably spill it on me. Instead I have to be content with having her pick up all of the things that I can't bear the thought of bending over for. Every night I strongly consider having cold cereal for dinner and my children are only saved from their fondest dream by guilty thoughts of nutrition.
I always forget this stage, or it seems less miserable when I'm not actually living it. But for now, two months is a long long time.