Kicking below the belt

Monday is beating the cr@p out of me these days - and he doesn't seem to be playing fair. Do I need to worry about the integrity of my unborn child?

Ground rules for the argument:

1. I don't wear belts these days, so I don't have any belts. As such, there is no such place on my figure that is either above or below the belt.
   
2. The band of my maternity pants is up and over my belly button (which is rapidly trying to escape 31 years of darkness and emerge into the light).
3. Therefore, for the sake of the argument, the band of my maternity pants can hereby represent "the belt".
4. Monday is kicking me below the belt all the time these days.
   

Take for example last night. I was happily sleeping (which any pregnant woman 33 weeks along will tell you is a total lie -- there is no sleeping, let alone "happily") along side Tim. Out of no where, Monday kicked me so hard, I think he awoke all the nerves down the right hand side of my body. He ended up "testing my reflexes" like the doctor with the hammer to your knee as I donkey-kicked the quilt on top of me. If that didn't wake me up... he did it twice more. Enough being enough, I "quickly" rolled over to my other side and tried to coax him away from whatever he had found that was so pleasing to pummel.

Now is that fair play? If I could have given the kid a time-out at the time, I would have.

In all seriousness, I (mostly) love the reminders that I have a wonderful little person growing inside of me. As long as he keeps kicking, everything is great, I just have to learn to live with a little more discomfort. One thing is for certain: I am sure it is not the last...