This changing body is so gimmicky. "Oh, there goes my waist!" It's been done so many times, and the day-to-day changes so predictable, that I no sooner notice a new itch or an ache and I'm reading about it on my weekly Babycenter email updates.
This is a well-oiled miracle going on inside me, folks and I'm just a vessel. And a vassal.
Speaking of those emails, every week they give me an approximate baby size. This week's estimator compared the baby to the size of a turnip. A Turnip!? Does anyone under the age of 80 know what a turnip looks like (or even tastes like for that matter.) Turnips went out with the Great Depression. How about, the baby is approximately the length and weight of an iphone...
I'm just saying.
I got a haircut the other day and I kept looking in the mirror to figure out why I looked, not right. I knew it had nothing to do with my asymmetry; which is my favorite thing to obsess over. No, it was something else. It took me while to figure out that my already round face is starting to take on a pumpkin-like quality. And my normal haircut is sitting on a huge head that I don't altogether recognize. There is a familiarity there: me plus thirty.
And I've already given up on looking at my butt in the mirror. My mind's eye already knows my horizontal width and I don't need any horrific images stuck in my head for last leg of this race.
And don't you find that the eyes can play tricks on you? I pulled out a pair of panties the other day fully expecting to wear them, only to find that it wasn't even close. I held those little trouble makers up, examined them closely. Yes, these were the same panties that were a joy to wear (three weeks ago.) They hadn't noticeably shrank in the dryer, but apparently that's what happened because I haven't spread so far so soon.
Hmm...not that I can see.
I saw a very pregnant woman (with a small child) in the grocery store the other day who was all done up: hair, nails, an outfit that took some thought to put together. I wondered where she gets the endurance to make an effort like that so close to the finish line. Then, later in the week I came across a mom with 3 month old twins, (she was also looking cute) and I said to myself, "Finish line? There is no finish line!"
I'm in a life marathon and I won't get my second wind for about a year. Help! I need a Red Bull, because my husband won't let me drink wine anymore! I'm having to sneak Diet Cokes when he's not looking. Jeez!
It's only month four of the great life transformation and I'm already rationing energy and sanity. I can't imagine menopause has anything on pregnancy. Inexplicable fits of rage and/or tears? And then what do you do after lunch? At least by menopause my sweet darlings will be able to fix their own sandwiches, leaving me some time to compose myself.
I'm compiling a list of things to do to make myself feel good during pregnancy because, doing God's work, while a beautiful privilege, is also quite taxing. Maybe you, clever friends, can help me add to this wish list. Maybe someone very close to me who is known for generosity will take note.
1. Pay whatever it takes to have someone else clean my house
2. Date night
3. Someone with more will power will make the dog and the Blue Bell disappear (no questions will be asked)
4. The men in this house will use ONE change of clothes per day. ONE.
5. A vacation before third trimester (while I can still stomach a bathing suit)
6. New Sofas or new Countertops *
*I will entertain either as my push gift.
What else am I forgetting on this list? I mean to ask high.
I asked my husband if he would rub lotion on my feet every night for the rest of the pregnancy, you know, since I'm doing all the work. And do you know what he said? "Every night?! That's alot. How about every other night?"
I can't get no respect!
So maybe that's how often I'll cook dinner! Beenie weenies if you're lucky, baby.
Thank you very much! Don't forget to tip your waitstaff! Have a great night!
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