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tales of something simple - April 2011

i believe

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.

all types of chaos

the crater belly button: my arch enemy

Hi, I’m pregnant.  What’s your name?
_________________________________________________________________________

The baby belly is in full force.  And I just want to say for the record:

  • It isn’t twins, triplets or multiples of any kind
  • My due date is not wrong
  • Yes, I have had ultrasounds which confirm this (notice how I didn’t say I have had ultrasounds to confirm this.  My doctor’s do not think at my size that I am carrying a litter of puppies, you see)
  • I have only gained 1 pound (as of last Thursday.  We will see what kind of scale tipping next week brings).

People say the dumbest shit and it least it makes me laugh.

Now let’s talk about it.  Yeah, it.  The crater.  It used to be my belly button.

And now?

Now.

Now it is a repository for my toll change, and a fun space for my nieces to shove their fingers in and squeal with excitement.  It is the thing that is revealed through thin t-shirts, a protruding indent of space which I cannot hide unless I wear a tent (which I am contemplating).  I could seriously store enough water in there to keep a small puppy alive for a week if we were stranded in the desert.

WHAT THE FUCK?

So not only do I get to enjoy the maternity pants, I get to really enjoy the additional belly band just to try and hide the damn thing.  It is huge and scary and all stretched out and well…I’m starting to realize I might have to come to terms with the fact that the freaking thing might not ever be normal again.

I was going to sport a bikini with pride this summer.  However this monstrosity needs to turn into a “flatty” or an “outy” for that to actually even be a thought.

For now, let me know if you need spare change for meter parking or vending machines.

I’m sure I could dig one out.

 


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