Happy New Year! This is not a 2012 year in review post. The thought of that sounded so awful and daunting. Lots of things happened. Instead here is more pregnant blabbing. Yea I know. 1-2 more weeks and you won’t have to hear about it anymore, OK?!
As you can see, baby has dropped (like whoa). It’s crazy. My thighs bump into my belly when I climb the stairs and when baby hiccups it feels like my butt is hiccuping. (Sorry. So sorry.) I have about 3 things that fit me. Seriously, most of my MATERNITY wear leaves me with a sliver of bare belly (attractive). Even old friends like pajama bottoms and my elastic jeans have turned on me. FYI for future preggies and early preggies: pants with the “demi panel” are a total joke by this point. Because you no longer have that convenient space between your bikini line and your belly button where, you know, PANTS used to go.
Baby is now due in 10 days so I definitely am in the sooper dooper fatty club. Everyone (everyone) gawks at me in public and asks me baby questions. I actually don’t find it annoying at all, I am so proud of Frogson and I love showing him off and don’t mind answering the same questions. I always heard horror stories of people being asked really offensive things, bellies being grabbed, etc. I never got much of that, the few weird remarks I have gotten have always been kind of memorable and funny to me. My definite favorite was back over the summer when we were at this party/dinner thing with Jeff’s family; one of the random persons assigned to our table was this woman who at the end of the night when parting ways, locked eyes with me and said in a very serious and solemn tone, “Boy I hope that baby just slides right out of you.” (Me too, my friend).
The following scenarios are pretty much my personal version of Armageddon right now: getting in and out of the car, putting shoes on, picking up dog poop on walks, and, as always, retrieving dropped items from the floor. SO MANY DROPPED ITEMS. Two of what used to be my most beloved activities–lounging on the couch and snuggling into bed for the night–(what can I say, LIFE IS A HIGHWAY)– are now the two activities I dread the most. During the day when I’m active and upright I’m actually not uncomfortable at all, but trying to lay down is awful. (That’s also the time of the day when I listen to my Hypnobabies tracks, and I sort of want to punch Hypnobabies Narrator Kerry when she coos in my ear to now… make everything around you safe and comfortable… and you are so comfortable now… and all of your skin feels so comfortable…. umm actually Kerry my skin feels like my abdomen is tearing away from my body but OK whatever you say. Do those full body pillows work? The “Snorglie” or whatever? If we have more disposable income during future frog pregnancies, maybe I’ll cough up the ridiculous $55 for it. For now, I worship my $15 Boppy Wedge with a Jonestownian fervor. It is my one true friend in the world.
The passage of time has also been kind of funny these last 9 months. January was really far away back in May. Back then I would think things like “Pssh I don’t really need to worry about getting ready till, like, October.” Then October came and I said I wouldn’t worry till the holidays. And now, well, those are over, and there is currently a gallon of milk in our fridge that expires four days after baby is due. Milk. MILK. MIIIILLLLK. The thing with the shortest shelf life IN THE UNIVERSE, EVER.
On that note, I’ll also take this time for an official **Bend it Like Becker Blog Housekeeping Note Cause I’m So Important But Not Really**. For those who’ve read all the way to this point, at least. But obviously any day now could be Baby Day so I apologize if I go silent for a while. When I resurface with child I would like to maintain some privacy parameters for him, since I blog under my real name (like an idiot). So I think he will continue to be Frogson here. But I don’t want to be a douchebag to the 99.8% of you who are just normal, non-creeper chicks like me, so I will briefly put up a picture with his name to introduce you all. But then it will fade into the internet abyss. So keep an eye out.
Otay off to feed us. Happy New Year! Smoochies!