30 Weeks

You may have noticed that I have been a bit sporadic in my blogging the last few months. Being pregnant with a toddler is tough work!

I find myself either totally dragging and fearing the addition of another little baby to our family or completely energized and eager to take on every task that comes with being a wife and mom.

Unfortunately blogging is neither a mom or a wife task so it has fallen by the wayside.

But there is good news for you... I am now 30 weeks pregnant!

Gah!

That is 30 out of 40. Just a short 10 weeks to go!

Once the baby actually arrives I can go about the business of collecting myself and figuring out what to do with a house of three men. I am quite sure that I will find it nowhere near as daunting as I keep thinking it will be.

Anyway, 30 weeks.

Yesterday I looked at my calendar and realized how close I am to the end of being pregnant. Somehow, having that nice round number in my head made me feel so secure. Instead of feeling like a giant balloon, or like I had let my pregnancy weight gain spiral out of control, I felt totally reasonable and like I looked just right for being 30 weeks pregnant.

To celebrate a day of not feeling disgusted with my shape I dressed up cute for church. I recently acquired a pair of brown, suede, slouchy boots and a pair of maternity leggings (the best $20 I've spent this pregnancy... they are SO COMFORTABLE!). I donned them last night with a sweet little dress and looked every bit the part of a maternity magazine model.

At least I thought I did.

Andy hates the boots and legging look (which I knew when I purchased them and was not expecting fireworks from him when I put them on) and told me that I looked like Robin Hood.

I told him that he would have to deal with it and that I would probably wear them every day for the next two and a half months, so there.

He laughed at me and said that he was quite sure every woman I encountered would probably tell me how cute I looked in them and the he knew he was the minority opinion, but he still thought it looked like a Robin Hood costume.

Then to make up for the teasing he told me my hair looked really great.

Which it did.

Regardless of his opinion of the latest trend, I still felt awfully cute as we headed out the door and prepared to parade myself around all of our friends.

Which I did, with great gusto.

Until...

Until I was talking to a grandma and she was making friendly conversation which included the, "When are you due?" question. I felt so smug to be able to say, "Oh, I'm about 30 weeks." And I tossed my hair to imply, "And don't I look just stunning?!"

Except she didn't catch the hair toss and replied, "Hmm..."

I don't like where this is going...

"You're kind of big for 30 weeks aren't you?"

And the tumbleweeds roll.

And my balloon bursts.

And I plaster a smile on my face and brush it off.

And make a quick exit from the conversation to find someone who can appreciate that even if I am HUGE, at least I still have fashion sense.

I hope.

Can I please pass on a word of advice? If you are talking to a pregnant woman, don't make any comment about her size except that she looks great. That is it. We all know we are getting bigger by the minute, but we can't do much about it now can we?

So.

No. Matter. What.

Don't tell a pregnant woman she is big.

Ever.

Ever.

Ever.