Beep Beep! Comin Through

It's official. I'm not small anymore. I never EVER thought of myself as a skinny girl. But with this new watermelon under my shirt, I long for the days I constantly felt "fat." I promise to the pregnancy gods that if they just restore my body to its previous state it was in prior to getting knocked up, I'll never curse again (Another thing I'm working on with McBaby's arrival coming in less than 4 months). I mean, I've been taking more Bar Method classes than I did in preparation for my wedding, so if that doesn't help the postpartum shrinking process, then I don't know what will.

The problem with gaining steadily in the weight department each week is that I honestly still have no idea how big I am. That is, until I knock into things with my stomach. The other day, I was able to accidentally keep the refridgerator door ajar with my protruding belly while stocking it with groceries without even meaning to.

I also got stuck in between two strangers' chairs at a restaurant the other night because I could have sworn I'd be able to squeeze in between them. Needless to say, it's a little embarrassing to ask not one, but two people to please scoot in because no matter how hard to suck in, you're not getting any smaller.

It's not like I'm massive or anything. I've gained around 12 pounds total, which isn't even that much considering I'm more than halfway there. But in my mind, I'm still my old size, which makes it all the more hard to admit to needing help off the couch, or assistance rolling over in bed (true story-happens multiple times a night). The other day I got down to demonstrate an ab routine for my Bar Method clients, and not only looked like I was actually giving birth while doing it, but let out a "heave ho" when getting back up, and proceeded to pant for the next minute straight. On another occasion I attempted to show the "perfect push-up" form, only to fall flat on my poor fetus during the failed demo.

Fact of the matter is, no matter how much I'd prefer to stay at the cute 20-week belly stage, it's come and gone, and I'm chugging closer and closer to the 40 mark, large and in charge. I made a promise to myself early on in my pregnancy that I would not waddle no matter how gigantic I got, and that I would not succumb to the comfort and convenience of a muumuu in my last weeks.

I may trash the Kardashian family on a regular basis, but Kourtney definitely knew what she was doing in the maternity style department. And I intend on trying for as long as I can fit...

Babies In Cocoons

I have a major problem. Besides Pinterest and buying everything off Zulilly, I cannot stop google imaging ridiculous phrases like "babies in cocoons" and "crocheted animal hats for babies." Basically I've decided to spend my lunch hours at work doing art direction on my unborn infant's first photo shoot of his life.

A friend of mine who just had her #2 stressed to me the importance of staging said shoot in the first week the baby's home because of how much newborns sleep that week, and referred to it as a "smushy pic" shoot. I tried talking about this another mom who looked at me like I had 3 eyes when I used the term. But I'm sticking to it. What happens is the photographer puts the baby in these insanely cute positions like placing his chin on his hands as if pondering some deep life moment. See here if you're still confused.

I've decided that McBaby's smushy pic shoot is going to be very nature-inspired. I already instructed my mom to start crocheting the crap out of cocoons made of any soft wool she could get her hands on, telling her to think nests, nature, birds, etc. when designing them. I'm thinking edgy Anne Geddes meets Annie Leibovitz for Vogue.

And I'd like to thank those babies I don't know in the pics for providing an insane amount of inspiration for McBaby's first photo shoot. And of course Justin Bieber and God.

Pregnancy Myths and Truths According to Me

When it comes to pregnant chicks, there's a lot of hocus pocus out there. There are the old-wives tales that claim to tell you you're having one gender or another based on things like the heart rate, the way you're carrying, and how bad your prego acne has gotten. (All signs pointed to me having a girl BTW, and my bambino definitely has a penis.) And then there's a bunch of nonsense about what everyone assumes all pregnant women experience during their 9 months of being knocked up.

Here are the five things that have NOT happened to me:

1. Pregnancy glow: I found out I was pregnant in July when I still had a nice summer tan going on. I hoped this alleged dewy beautiful complexion would last the duration of my pregnancy based on the age-old saying, but alas, winter has arrived, my face is just as pasty and uneven as it always is this time of year. I'm going to go ahead and say this "glow" was made up by overweight pregos who tend to overheat after climbing a set of stairs. Glow=you're fat and sweating.

2. 2nd trimester energy: What a load of crap this is. Of course I feel better than that horrendous first 16 weeks, but I'd hardly call what I'm experiencing "energetic." It's just that I've trained myself to push past falling asleep when it's still light out, which has taken months to master. Sometimes I just succumb to the calling of my bed at dusk, but mainly it's that I got sick of missing all my shows and have gotten better at fighting the small knives constantly stabbing at my eyeballs. Energy....MY ASS.

3. Increased hunger: Ya know the saying "old wives' tale"? There should also be one called "fat pregnant womens' lies". I've worked out at least 5 out of the 7 days a week for as long as I can remember, so I've always been someone who eats mini meals throughout the day. That's exactly how I feel while pregnant. I'm working out about half as much, but know my body is working on overdrive to create my little dude--who by the way is only a pound at 22 weeks. My eating habits haven't changed in the slighest since becoming pregnant. So sorry, but claiming to be ravenous for muffins, chocoloate and ice cream while you're pregnant is just a lie--women always want that--knocked up or not. And you're just taking advantage of your situation!

4. Special treatment: I had so many people tell me prior to "showing" that once I popped, people would be opening doors for me, giving me their seats and going out of their way to make me comfortable. Wrong. I've had a few people give me a side semi-smile, as if they're scared to actually say anything to me. The other day, I was at a Verizon Wireless Store waiting in line, and turned around to see at least a dozen people sitting in chairs in the store. I purposely made eye contact with a couple of the a-holes playing with their iPhones, and not one of them offered me their seat. Maybe it's because everyone is scared shitless to offer a pregnant woman a chair, just for her to turn around and scream at them, "I'm NOT pregnant!" Hey--it's probably the most awkward thing you can do, so I'll let it go.

5. Increased sex drive: Yeah-to-the-right. Again, any woman claiming to feel "sexy" and more "horny" during pregnany is L-Y-I-N-G. This is the same kind of woman who would claim she loves dressing up as a naughty nurse for her husband because it's the only way that sick fuck can get off. But in all seriousness, I'm not one of those horrid wives who uses my pregnancy as an excuse not to get down--I'm just super realistic about it--it's not as great. But who really gives a shit? Not me.

Here are 5 things that have happened to me:

1. Huge boobs: Duh. Even girls who usually have mosquito bites for boobies are blessed during this time frame. The only thing that sucks is how much they itch...oh, and the fact that they make even a sensible turtleneck look pornstar-ish.

2. Awesome hair: This could not be more true. My hair is like that chick from Rumplestilzkin right now--golden spun silk. The thing that sucks is that it apparently goes back to its prior suckiness directly after giving birth, AND I heard some women lose some of their hair! Wahhhh.

3. Getting dumber: I have turned into the ditziest mother fucker of all time. The other day I was trying to remember the word "narrate," and described it as "the thing where someone tells a story from a certain perspective." MORON.

4. Uncontrollable shopping: I'm not sure if this is a normal ailment of pregnant women, but I thought I'd include it because of how unbelievable out of control it's gotten. Ever since finding out we're having a boy, I've been nonstop buying, mostly online. I just want him to be the coolest SoCal hipster surfer bowl-cut toehead dude in all the land. Can you really blame me?!

5. Nesting: I finally understand the true meaning of this word. My favorite place in the whole world is home these days. As an example, today I was getting a pedicure, and as she was rubbing my feet, I was checking the clock counting down the minutes til I could get home to just....tidy up. I constantly make neat piles and organize everything and overuse my label maker. Is this what moms do? I may just be crazy.

So this just my take on things....I truly apologize if you really are energetic, fat, glowing, craving tons of sex, and everyone's been giving you their seat.