30 Weaks

Um...I know how to spell weeks. I was just trying to be punny, but every time I do that a panicky voice takes over my brain and tells me PEOPLE WILL THINK YOU'RE STUPID IF YOU DON'T EXPLAIN THAT YOU'RE JOKING.

Sarah often tells me I should give people more credit and just trust that they'll understand because my friends are all smart...BUT THAT'S THE PROBLEM. I am aware that there are all these smart people reading the blog and I JUST WANT TO TRICK YOU INTO THINKING I'M ONE OF YOU.

So anyway, sorry I'm less concerned with whether or not I'm insulting your intelligence than I am with covering my own ass - which brings me quite literally to my actual point.

I hit 30 weeks last Thursday and BAM! Just like that, none of my clothes fit.

Dresses I've been comfortably wearing this entire time are suddenly obscenely short - but not quite short enough to pass off as a shirt, rendering them completely useless. I tried to wear leggings under one of them yesterday and I can't confirm this, but I'm pretty sure they were trying to choke my baby, which frankly is just rude.

All the long shirts I was hoping would get me through the pregnancy are failing miserably, creeping stubbornly back up above my belly button no matter how many times I tug them back down and threaten to cut them up and add them to Gary's pile of oil rags in the garage.

Oh and jackets? Forget about it. This isn't as big of a concern since my average body temperature is about 10,000 degrees, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to see all my zippers cowering in fear and ducking around corners at the sight of me. ARE YOU GUYS CALLING ME FAT???

Basically I'm just trying to give you a heads up as to why I will exclusively be wearing curtains for the next 10 weeks. I shouldn't really complain - I mean, at least I'll be the only person who can say they bought their outfit at Ikea.