Defending my People

This is a replica of the note I left on a MAN'S car who parked in the "mothers-to-be" parking spot at Kroger:

Yes, I know my fly is down!

Have you ever gotten home from a long day and just unbuttoned your pants, pulled down the zipper and sat on the couch? Feels good, don’t it?

That is how I live all the time now that I’m pregnant. I refuse to buy maternity clothes until at least 20 weeks (I'm 18.75 now) so I either wear stretchy sweats or I just unbutton and unzip my regular pants.

I can even do this in public thanks to the miracle of the tummy tube! Check it out:

You can't even tell my pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, can you? The tummy tube is just like a tube top. (In fact, sometimes just out of habit I accidentally put it on like a tube top.) It goes over your waist band and it smooshes it to the point where you can’t tell that your pants are basically down. It’s very comfortable too.

In this picture I’m wearing my skinny jeans. They are very small. I am not. It appears as if I just have on a cute layered outfit. I do not. I’m like a pregnant illusionist! I should seriously take this act to Vegas.

Who eats pancakes on a Thursday?

A pregnant girl, that's who. A pregnant girl who saw a commercial for Golden Corral that featured pancakes and said to herself, "I sure would like some pancakes right now...no, you can't have pancakes...it's Thursday! But why can't I? I can have pancakes on Thursday! So you're gonna get all that stuff out and make the big ol' mess just so you can have some stupid pancakes? Yes, yes I am."


It was all downhill after this picture was taken. I only ate one and then I felt sick. Next time I'll just go to Golden Corral.

Bikini Belly

We’re heading to the Bahamas next week for our babymoon. I would add this word to Frank’s daddy dictionary but I just learned it myself. Apparently it’s a trip that couples take before their baby is born. It’s like our last hurrah—sort of like a graduation trip minus the wet t-shirt contests.

I only had one condition for the trip: it had to be somewhere tropical. I was not going to go my entire pregnancy without getting to do that whole pregnant-girl-in-a-bikini look. Finally, no sucking in! No finding that perfect lounge-chair position to properly distribute belly bulge. No more hiding behind a tree or a tall pina colada in pictures because I just ate a big buffet meal.

When you’re pregnant, you can let it all hang out.

But last night Frank looked at my belly and said, “Maybe we jumped the gun on this babymoon thing.” My belly is not bikini ready! I’m only 16 weeks along; there’s not a whole lot to hang out.

“Oh, poor Writinggal. She’s not fat enough for her bikini. Wah, wah wah.”

Wait. You will be crying for me when you hear this: There’s a little bit hanging out, just not enough. It’s this terrible in-between stage where you can’t tell if I’m pregnant or pudgy.

Are the tears starting to form yet?

Imagine this:
“Hey, honey, look at that girl over there. Do you think she’s pregnant or just fat?”

“Well, she’s sucking down a big drink so she can’t be pregnant. I think she just made one too many trips to the buffet line.”

“Hahahahahaha! You’re right! I did see her totally pigging out at breakfast. And look, she’s scarfing down that hamburger and fries. It’s kind of gross.”

“Someone get that girl a sarong.”

“Or Jenny Craig’s number. Hahahahahahaha.”

In my defense that was a virgin drink! And I AM eating for two! Well, one and a quarter.

There’s only one solution: I’m going to have to buy a bunch of those pregnancy novelty t-shirts. They’re like $50 each but a worthwhile investment:

“Yes, I’m pregnant. No, you can’t touch my belly.”
“Does this baby make me look fat?”

“Dying for a drink.”

“He did this to me” (with an arrow pointing to Frank or whoever happens to be on my left side at the time).

“Got pickles?”

“I’ve got the golden ticket” (also works as a tribute to my mothering-idol, Britney!)


The good news is, with all these cool new tops, we might not have to rule out the wet t-shirt contest!

Frank's Daddy Dictionary

Frank is very excited about becoming a dad. (Hint for Christmas: he has his eye on a "Big Daddy" t-shirt like Doug Clayton's).

Ever since I became pregnant, he's had to learn lots of new words. Every time I teach him one I'll share it here. Hey, maybe you'll learn something too. Today, I have two words for you:

Trimester: A three-month period. Pregnancy is nine months (more or less) so there are three trimesters.

Frank is struggling with this one. Being the academic that he is, he prefers to tell people, "Elsa's in the second semester!"

Braxton Hicks: False labor; a pregnant woman may feel these contractions but they're not the "real deal." Our friend Shannon experienced this and when Frank heard us talking about it, he asked, "Is she naming the baby Braxton? I like that name."

Now, whenever we tease him about it, he still insists, "Braxton is a cool name!"

Stay tuned. I can pretty much guarantee there will be more definitions to add to the daddy dictionary.

Pregnancy Perplexers

If this is true then how did Frank's Nana bear eight healthy children?