I really have nothing to report. Baby M is still kicking away, and has developed an annoying habit of somehow scooching one of his limbs right up under my ribs. Heartburn gets a little worse every day. My husband lovingly refers to me as his African land mammal. My natural loathing for my fellow humans increases daily at an exponential rate. Sometimes I think this is some sort of instinctive protective mama-instinct, so that I keep my slow-moving self and (eventually) the newborn babe away from others who would either throw us to various wild predators or eat us themselves. But mostly I think it's because I'm a terrible person.