“For at least the next eighteen years,” she teases.

At least.

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austin

Five months later…

Welp.

I’m still pregnant.

I know that’s what you were wondering and the answer is yes, Gio isstillthe father. And everyone in the free world knows it because he insists on telling every single person we meet, as if he deserves a medal.

Everyone: “Oh, you’re pregnant? Congratulations!”

Him: “Thanks, it’s mine.”

Proud Zaddy vibes.

Anyway, pregnancy has been a wild ride.

I’m a hormonal time-bomb wrapped in stretchy leggings, oversized hoodies, oversized Baddies jerseys, messy buns…

…and Gio?

Obviously feeling way cuter than I am and living his best life. He loves my pregnant stomach, loves my changing body, loves how crabby I’ve become—BECAUSE HE IS SO ANNOYING.

Seriously.

He’s starting to drive me nuts.

He narrates everything.EVERYTHING.

“Captain’s Log:bae is going for her third pickle of the day. Her third. Let’s see how this plays out in the bathroom....”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the baby demands nachos at 2 a.m. Will I survive this grocery store run? Stay tuned!”

And donotget me started on the names he’s choosing.

This week? He’s taken to calling the babyGiovanni Dangerous. Not Gio, Junior. Not Dangerous.Giovanni Dangerous. Like he’s naming a damn Bond villain.

The worst part is he’s completely serious. I tried to veto his suggestion—obviously—but then he started googling, “How to legally file a baby name without the mother’s consent,” and now I’m watching him closely—justin case.

Worse, still?

Gio has also decided that pregnancy is the perfect time to become a “cool dad influencer.” He bought an adventure camera and strapped it to his chest to capture “authentic dad moments.” Which thus far includes: footage of him folding laundry, giving pep talks before doctor’s appointments, and ordering all available French fry varieties (curly, regular, and sweet potato) because I was craving potatoes.

The thing is…

As ridiculous as he’s behaving, I love him.

There.

I said it.

I love Gio Montagalo and if you would have told me six months ago, I wouldn’t have believed you. Never, not in a million years.