I to think I have 22 weeks of this nonsense left...

Today I made the mistake of jumping off the stage in the museum's auditorium in front of my intern. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue except my intern is a double agent. She spies on me for two of my coworkers who, if it were up to them, would put me in a bubble for the remainder of my pregnancy and feed me protein shakes and broccoli every two to three hours until Christmas.

[Shudder]

See, this week has been hellish. There is this summer camp thingy that the museum is participating in that is more or less an outright fiasco. And it really isn't even a camp. It is summer school. For middle schoolers that are failing one or more subjects. I am just a partner in this disorganized hot mess. A partner that is apparently on a need to know basis, might I add. Not that I am bitter or anything [insert sarcasm here]. But that is another story for another day. All that is really important for this tale is that I've been more or less going NON stop since Monday, because there are only four of us and two THOUSAND of them (students). As a result, eating regularly (if at all) hasn't been my number one priority. Consider me in survival mode until 2:30 PM next Thursday.

Anyway, my intern started spying on me earlier in the week when she noticed that I didn't eat lunch until 3:30. I mean, hey - it isn't like I didn't get around to it. It was just postponed. The same thing happened on Tuesday, except I was able to eat closer to 3 PM (it is all about the small victories this week). But all hell broke loose today when my intern told my coworkers that all she had seen me eat on Wednesday was two protein bars and a handful of animal crackers.

And then I had to go and jump off the stage this afternoon.

Now, it isn't like the stage is all that high or anything. We are talking only three or three and a half feet here. I've jumped off of it a million times in my seven years at the museum. It really isn't a big deal. Except now I am pregnant and apparently pregnant women can't jump off of anything.

The next thing I knew, my intern had gone off and tattled on me, and there was a kind of impromptu intervention in my office. Coworker one was all over my diet and that I needed to eat for the baby, and that 2,000 kids wasn't an excuse why I couldn't at least stop long enough for a snack.

(Obviously coworker one hasn't ventured upstairs this week.)

Coworker two basically told me I was killing The Fetus by jumping or making sudden movements. Which makes me wonder how humans ever survived as a species if all the knocked up ones couldn't run, jump and climb trees to escape predators.

I tried to make the argument that I should avoid walking in general and taking the museum stairs - especially since we had several hundred teenagers squirting their water bottles at each other on the marble floor and staircase Tuesday afternoon. Coworker two seemed to agree, and also thought I should also consider sitting down more and ceasing to work out.

(Apparently coworker two is oblivious to sarcasm.)

Coworker two also can't wait for me to "balloon up" so I'll be too big to want to move far or fast.

I think that is just mean.

So, I retaliated by bunny hopping around the office just to spite coworker two and annoy coworker one.

At which point they threatened to call Trevor. Something about how it is "his baby too" and how he wouldn't stand for such nonsense.

We went back and forth until five, when I was *finally* able to get in my car and escape.

And that was pretty much the extent of my afternoon.