So, as I'm sitting here drinking my almost frozen, ginormous glass of chocolate milk and eating the worlds biggest slice of blueberry bread, it hits me. I'm getting fat. Yes, I know that's what happens to all pregnant people. But right now I am hating all of you that pop your babies out and fit right back into your normal jeans. I'm actually hating everyone in their normal jeans, pregnant or not. I'm hating my husband that never gains a pound no matter what I try and feed him. I'm hating that through over eight years of marriage his body looks exactly the same! No stretch marks, no saggy parts, no skin breakouts. I'm hating that its so blasted hot outside. I hate that person that parked so close to my car that I had to climb my fat butt through the passenger side to get myself in and buckle in a two year old. You can't imagine the horrible thoughts I was having about what I could have written on their windshield. "Thanks for parking so close to my car @$$%#%!! Sorry about the dent in your door and your mirror, but that's what happens when you park 6 inches away from a huge pregnant girl's door and its 116 degrees outside." I did have my kids with me so I only shouted idiot a few times. Still, not the best example. I can't seem to help myself. I'm just angry right now. And if my husband asks me if I'm hormonal one more time, I swear I'm going to club him in the head.
There, I feel better now :)
Most Wonderful Time Of The Year
4 days ago
