Despite not being one of those glowy, happy women who loves being pregnant and has never felt better in their life, I’ve felt good about the experience thus far.
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Not me, not even a little. Photo Credit : mommyish.com
Despite the fact that most days I’ve felt like a combination between a swamp monster
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In fact this picture was taken while I walked to work this morning. Photo Credit: hask.org
And a pumpkin.
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Not like this pumpkin, it’s far too cute and reasonably sized. Photo Credit : instructables.com
Like an over-sized pumpkin advertised on signs for a fair, that people buy tickets to gawk at.
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There comes a point when one needs to ask “Should this get bigger?” Photo Credit : bajiroo.com
I mean, I stopped being able to get up off of the futon by myself about a month ago. Admittedly our futon is awkwardly shaped and low to the ground and ultimately a futon, which is to say it’s a piece of furniture that makes neither a nice bed nor a nice couch. Somehow I was able to move past this fact, although not physically obviously; Tex has frequently cupped one of my buttocks while saying “Alley–oop”, to help me off the couch. But mentally, I forgave the futon, well not so much forgave as routinely beat the living daylights out of, when I left the bed to sleep on the aforementioned uncomfortable not-bed, because Tex and my bed was too soft, hard, warm, small, smooth, or whatever other conclusion my crazy pregnant brain had come to at 2 am. I would then release my insomniac frustrations on the futon by kicking and punching my way back to sleep.
That was before last week when I realized that I was too fat to get out of bed. If I’m being honest, I’ve probably been too fat to exit the bed for some time now, however I wasn’t aware of this until my mountain of pillows rearranged itself to form a kind of barricade.
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You know, I think I’d be more comfortable if I had just one more….Tex the time has come- give me your pillow. Photo Credit : sodahead.com
And I was unable to use my patented, pregnant technique of rolling sideways out of the bed so my feet landed on the floor. “Uuuurrggghhhh” I cried. “Ahhhhh”
“What’s wrong?” Tex asked, bolting straight up in the bed just because he could, what with not being six months pregnant.
“I’m too fat to get out of bed” I cried plaintively as my sweet husband reached over to help me to a sitting position.
So that’s it then. I’m now a “Yo’ mamma” joke, I shall commence my muumuu wearing tomorrow.
Image may be NSFW.
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Image may be NSFW.Clik here to view.
