I'm, really, so glad I had that 3rd piece of my little monkey's birthday cake. Really. So glad. Actually, truth be told, I had 4 pieces. BUT, I only ate the icing on the last 2 pieces.... Of course, I passed out shortly after the 5th piece (did I say 5?), and I woke up shaking like a leaf -- because, did I mention?, I'd eaten nothing else but my Starbucks chai tea latte (BLECH-but-can't-help-myself...HELP!) all day.... Bad me, BAD!
My little monkey's 2 years old now! TWO! SHE ate three pieces of cake.... (And, little else, as usual....)
So, I'm officially a truck. Here, look. It's me on my way to the wedding I went to on Saturday night:
DRESS!!! EEEEEEEEEEEK! I know. I know I know I know I know I know. I HATE it. Josh-O got it for me, though, and he refused to get it for me in plain BLACK like I wanted. It's Old Navy. And, it's ALL WRONG. AS IF I'm not NOTICEABLE enough? I REEEEEALLY need a pattern like this to ACCENTUATE all my curves. 'Nuff. 'Nuff said. About the dress....
How 'bout that HAIR, though??? If you've been to my other blog, The Cheaty Monkey, you know I HATE my new haircut, and that I've cried many-a-tear about it. And, I'm trying REALLY hard not to approach that dumbarse hairdresser and give him a piece of my mind...and take scissors to HIS HAIR. DO NOT MESS WITH A PREGNANT WOMAN'S HAIR!?!?! If she tells you to LEAVE IT LONG!!!, YOU FREAKING BETTER LISTEN TO HER. Okay, deep breath, don't get me started. I HATE HATE HATE my haircut. It makes me feel UGGERSER than EVER.
And, MY ARMS! I've had this rash on my arms since I became pregnant. It goes all the way down to my forearms. It's how I knew I was preggers in the first place. LOVERLY. I'm not going to talk about how RIPPED my arms used to be.... And, sniffle, my ankles (or cankles -- i.e., calves and ankles that are now ONE) used to be one of my favourite features. But, OH!, 'tis no more....
Despite my recent uglification, I let LOOSE at that wedding on Saturday night and had such a blast. Me, Josh, my fam, my fan, and my water danced the night away!
WHEW! UG-GERS! Hee. It's okay.... I'm GORJ on the inside, right???!!?? LOVE!
STUFF I WANT TO INVENT (YOU HEARD IT HEAR FIRST, 'KAY?)
1. Toilet-paper pole. When you get THIS big it's VERY hard to wipe. I mean, you manage, but it's super uncomfortable, and one risks falling on a public toilet seat in the effort.... A portable toilet-paper pole? Must-have.
2. Shower pole with soap dispenser and wash cloth or sponge attached. Just as it's hard to wipe, it's SO hard to shower. I mean, standing and BREATHING in the shower are bad enough, and then I have to wash my feet? And, I have to twist around and contort my HUGE self to clean those hard-to-reach places? And, I have to keep reaching over to get more soap because I have SO MUCH BAWD to cover? No. Too too difficult. So, some sort of pole thingy would be great. And, if there could be a button on the pole to release soap at will? That'd be much appreciated. Thanks.
3. Robotic razor. I'm not going to get into too much detail here. But, how the hell do I shave? I can't even SEE IT, let alone REACH IT. And, shaving my legs? I mean, hellooo? Ugh. Everything is sooooo HARD! Anyway, someone has to make a special robotic razor for pregnant woman. A razor that knows EXACTLY where to go. Or, maybe some sort of pole razor. With a mirror, or something?
4. An organic deodorant that blocks sweat. Sweat sweat sweat: the story of my life right now. Just check my sweaty face in all those uggers pictures. GROSS! Now, about the underboob and the underarm sweat.... Can we PLEASE invent a deodorant with perfectly nontoxic and wonderful ingredients that keeps you from sweating everywhere like that SWEATY OLD MAN at the gym? I'd use a regular antiperspirant IF I WERE NORMAL. But, I'm not. The aluminum in commercial antiperspirants makes me anxious...when I'm preggers....... Sigh.
5. Pole for reaching toys in the backseat of car that monkey needs NOW, whether you're at a red light or not. Of course, I wait for the red light, or I pull over. But, what does a preggers woman do when her toddler is SCREAMING in the backseat for the cookie she threw under the seat, or her sippy cup, or the Dora and Diego dolls thrown out of arms reach, or the sticker she got at camp.... Someone needs to invent a special pole for this, like, so I don't have KILL MYSELF trying to contort this big ole bawd to appease my screaming monkey.
So, there you go. All my ideas. Go crazy YE INVENTORS! Here's a pole -- some inspiration for you...:
Yeah, that's Britney pole dancing on the set of her new vid. Check what that's all about at Cheaty's Celebrity Gossip....
NUMBER ONE MOST ANNOYING COMMENT I GET ALL THE TIME
"Oh, you're so big, you're not going to make it to your due date."
ARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!! HATE!!!!!! BEYOND!!!! I think I hate this comment more than I hate my haircut -- and that's A FREAKING LOT. I know, I've said this before. But, it's beyond annoying and RUDE. Seriously! People might as well be saying "you're so big your baby's going to have to go in an incubator!" Honestly? RUDE. People have been saying this to me for WEEKS. And, I LOATHE it. So not fair. Whew, I had to get that off my chest.
I'm 31 weeks! And, yes, I'M GOING TO MAKE IT. I have a full baby inside me -- a baby that my ultrasound says is already THREE POUNDS! Amazing. Miraculous. SO WORTH being uggers for. SO WORTH being utterly uncomfortable for months. SO WORTH IT ALL. Check me!:
Come visit me at The Cheaty Monkey! I LOVE IT when you visit!
Want gossip? Check it -- at Cheaty's Celebrity Gossip!
And, talk to me in the comments, 'kay? I LOVE to hear your thoughts and experiences and tips and EVERYTHING! LOVE!