Klump...Klump...Klump...

Hubber calls them Klump feet (you know, like Sherman Klump), I call them Flintstone feet and J calls them Chubby feet. It doesn’t matter what you call them, though, they’re huge. Youuge, huge! I’ve got some big ass swollen feet, ya’ll! And with the right shoes, my ankles just kinda flap over the sides. It’s disgusting, actually. There is no good remedy besides 24-7 bed rest to get the swelling down, either. No Epson salt foot soak. No degree of elevation. No honey/cinnamon scrub. No cold compress. Nothing. Ya hear me? NOT A DANG THING! And as if the need for size 12W shoes wasn’t bad enough, I’ve got some seriously raunchy belches. It doesn’t matter what I eat. Popsicle = squished, old cherry belch. Cereal = rotten milk belch. Salad = wilted, molded, dog run grass belch. We won’t even getting into fish or burgers or Sonic blue coconut slushies for crying out loud! Speaking of which…ya’ll. The bladder has gotten smaller. I’m like a granny…going to pee every 2 hours…including in the middle of the night.

Here’s how I spend most nights (and the baby ain’t even born yet!!):
1. toss and turn
2. finally decide to start the night on the left side
3. stuff squishy, long pillow under belly
4. stretch same said pillow to reach knees
5. stuff squishy, long pillow between knees
6. pull and tug blankets up to neck
7. be sure to leave airways for toes to breathe
8. breathe sigh of relief
9. sleep for 1 hour
10. wake up with sudden, violently serious need to pee
11. roll over to back
12. breathe
13. roll over to right side
14. breathe
15. sit up and dangle legs over the side of the bed
16. breathe
17. stand up slowly
18. almost pee on self
19. wobble to the restroom while trying hard to keep legs as close together as possible so as not to pee on self
20. find the toilet
21. pee
22. wobble back to bed

Rinse and repeat.

How do I not remember all of the ailments of pregnancy? Ten years wasn’t that long ago. I think there’s a little trigger in women’s brains that makes us forget what pregnancy and delivery is all about and tricks us into thinking it’ll be fun to do it all again.

On the flip side, though…my finger nails are growing beautifully! And my belly, ya’ll! My belly is the best thing of all! It hides the fact that I’m a fatass! I love it! Also, I lost 8 pounds in the first trimester…gained nothing in the second…and started the third with only a 2.5 pound gain! And 2.5 pounds is what the baby is supposed to be weighing right about now…which means…it’s all baby weight! Even the elephant feet don’t weigh an ounce! With J I gained 30 pounds! With this gorgeous, wonderful hunk of baby, I’ve only gained 2.5 pounds so far! Yay me! This pregnancy thing is the best diet ever! I keep stuffing my face and I don’t gain any weight! Maybe I should have 3 or 4 more. Or, maybe not.

Speaking of skinny people. Sis, too! She’s due in November…which means our kids will only be 5 months apart (or so). I told my mom to quit praying for grandkids…God’s granting prayers by the butt-load right now! What she oughta do is start praying for some lottery winnings!