Wow my body is seriously not looking like my own anymore! Someone somewhere gave Mr. Stretch Marks my address and he has finally made the trek up to Alaska to plague me. Yes, it’s true, I have joined the ranks of marked mothers. My first reaction was a little like “OMG I’M GOING TO BE PURPLE FOR-EV-ER!!!”
Luckily my second reaction, which came quickly after was more like “OR they’ll turn more white-ish like every other stretch mark and I’ll have a badge of honor.” It’s not really the stomach ones that surprise me so much now, as the ones on my thighs. Seriously? I know my thighs were much bigger in high school when I played volleyball and yet, there they are. Maybe it’s just because my enormous belly actually rests on them. Or maybe it’s from sitting at work. Either way, I am intrigued. (And just because I know this question will come up, I’ll answer it now: No, no my butt has not gotten any bigger. Oddly enough, my butt only gets bigger when I work out, much to my husband’s chagrin.)
My body isn’t even acting like my own anymore! Aside from slipping on the ice (not falling though, I’ve always been lucky enough to not have put much weight on the foot that’s somehow found the only slippery patch in the whole sidewalk), I actually fell on my niece this morning. As much as I feel like a whale, I did not end up turning her into a pancake! I walked upstairs to get some breakfast and she got so excited, as 2-year olds do, and she ran at me for a hug. I squatted down (and counted that in my squats for the day) and she flung her arms around me neck. [Pause to allow adorableness to sink in…] She then proceeded to fling her head backwards and giggle which lead me to be completely off-balance and fall forward. But what’s your first reaction when you’re squatting and something pulls you forward? If yours is to try to put a foot in front of you to catch yourself, then you’re in the same boat as me. (But if yours is to fall over on your face then I’m not sure we can be interweb friends…)
But picture, if you will, a woman with a basketball sized belly with a 35lb 2-year old strapped around her neck trying to catch her balance over and over. If you can accomplish this I’m sure you’ll be snickering at the awkwardness of it. I knew there was no way to avoid hitting the floor, so I guess I was just trying to buy time to make sure I didn’t hit her head into the hardwood floor. Either that, or I thought it was a good idea to practice my Russian dancing… It all happened so fast I’m really not sure anymore. Luckily, I did little to no damage to
the hardwood floor my niece’s head and she only whimpered. Probably from the frightening thought of being turned into a pancake. The loud crash that came out of this whole clumsy event was my left knee hitting the floor. Hard. At least this lead to getting some niecey kisses and hugs (complete with pats on my back) after she realized Aunty M probably got hurt a little bit more than she did.
I’m not sure when I turned into such a klutz. Or when I became so stretched. But regardless of when (I’d ask how, but we all know how this has happened, and that husband of mine is to blame!), I only have roughly 2 weeks left of it. In about 30 minutes, my doctor should be letting me know how close I am to the big event. Here’s hoping little Killian can at least hold out until March 17th. What Irish boy wouldn’t love to be born on an Irish
turned American holiday?