Some days you glow and some days…
Oh to feel as cute and peppy as those little marching band snap, crackle, pop boys. Today I am battling the inevitable snags and pulls on my sweater from my ever-evolving midsection which seems to draw the lusty attention of every exposed nail, splintered door jam and open drawer.
Equally unattractive and unavoidable the relentlessly itchy skin on my belly and the magnificent cracking on my hands. It is as if this lil lass gestating inside of me has taken one of those fancy striped straws and is sucking down every last drop of Amanda. So dry. So itchy, so (gag) scaly. And the pop, oh lord the POP!
“Mama, it’s getting bigger and bigger and bigger. We’re gonna need to wiggle, wiggle, wiggle the baby out, so she can be safe.”
Yes, indeed, let’s wiggle that baby out so she is shielded from the danger of my belly’s staggering growth.
Excuse me while I go weep at another sappy email that was forwarded to me, while I sit tapping my foot to the rhythm of my scratching.