I have no filter and offer completely inappropriate responses when I’m pregnant you guys. Is it starting to become a problem?
I was listening to a woman who was explaining to another woman how deep breathing and massage can help during delivery without an epidural. I snorted and said “Yeah, they do the trick about as well as a hand job in 9th grade.”
You know those people who walk around the airport with that stupid wrap pillow around their neck like a nap might strike at any time? You are an adult human most likely without narcolepsy. It takes all my pregnant strength not to kick you in your shins. There’s no telling how long I can withhold.
The next time someone asks me how I’m feeling it’s going to take the same strength not to say: “Fat.” I know, I know – this is not culturally acceptable. But it’s the truth. I’m not saying it in a bad way. I’m just saying it in a totally realistic and honest kind of way. I have a human in my belly. I can’t breathe well because it’s encroaching on my lungs and I can’t stop peeing because it’s overtaking my bladder. Maybe I’ll just say “I feel full, thanks.” Full of human.
Here’s a life hack – You COULDN’T care less. If you COULD care less you are saying you do care about it a little. Also, nip it in the bud means you are putting an end to it, nip it in the butt means you’re going to take a bite out of an ass. Related – maybe you’ve noticed something not grammatically correct in this post. It’s called freestyle, people.
My 5 year old asked my husband what “Fucking Christ” meant and why he always says it in the car. My 3 year old then started whispering “Fucking Christ” over and over again. I laughed so hard I wept. Tears streaming down my face with snot bubbles coming out of my nose. If you ever hear my children happily shout “Fucking Christ!” feel free to remind them this phrase should only be used in disgust at little old ladies driving 35 miles an hour on a highway.
The next time someone asks me if my pregnancy was planned I’m going to ask them how much money they make. Watch me.
If you’ve ever typed “I never really post this kind of stuff on social media but…” and then proceed to rant about politics or your recent divorce, we can’t be friends.
Please do not get offended if you are clearly pregnant and I don’t say “Oh my gosh you are pregnant too!” Even though I may have lost my filter, I made a pact with myself not to ask how far along someone is unless I can see their baby’s head crowning. Related, if you see me and don’t ask how far along I am I will assume you think I let myself go and be seriously offended.
Can we make a social pact not to shake hands from the months of November-February? I’m totally cool with a nod or air-kiss if you are.
If you get my coffee order wrong in the drive-thru you better believe you’ll be seeing my double chin in your window again. I know the exact difference in taste between 2 pumps and 3; don’t try to give me gestational diabetes. Also when I say extra onions, no pickles that does not mean extra onions, extra pickles. Stop ruining lives.
If I put dirty dishes in the cupboard, mayo in the dishwasher, and cereal in the fridge it’s still your fault because you didn’t take out the trash.
I think you smell. But that’s okay because I think I do too.
Do you hate me yet? Please don’t leave me, this alter ego will go away in 4 months. Also, thank you for telling me I look great when I know I resemble a homeless yoga instructor. “Sweatpants are all that fit me right now.”
Sincerely yours in hormones and no-alcohol,