Where has Ms. Forty been?
Probably sleeping.
Yeah, I’m sad to say I’m still tired. Fortunately, it’s a different kind of tired. This is more of a, “Gosh, it might be nice to take a nap” tired, rather than a “OH SWEET CABBAGE FARTS I NEED TO LIE DOWN OR I’M GONNA FIND THE CRY I HAD WHEN I WAS 4 AND DIDN’T GET A PONY FOR CHRISTMAS!” tired.
I’m now good to do at least ONE thing a day. For instance this past holiday weekend I was able to do Zoo. Then I was able to do Small Business Saturday. Today I was able to do Dog Park. These things are then followed by some focused couch time.
As Mr. indicated, we let all the close friends know at Thanksgiving. I’ve then gone around to all the close friends who were with their family. I think I’ve got all the ones who would really lose their shit if they find out via Facebook (which will be our primary method of public announcement, because Critter was conceived and will be born “in a certain time”).
I told work about a week ago – which went very well. I had to tell them, none of my clothes fit. I had hoped to go shopping this weekend, but it was Thanksgiving, and it all seemed so awful and unpleasant, I just could do it. The idea of trampling other pregnant women for the Door Buster 2 for 1 stretch sweater BOGO deal just seemed a little much in my delicate state.
And by delicate state I mean, I need to not be around other pregnant women. They make me… competitive. I don’t know how else to explain it, but when I see another pregnant woman, and she’s more pregnant than me (which let’s face it, right now is pretty much everybody), I get really mad that she’s beating me.
Yep, I made pregnancy competitive. Not in a “I do 150 kegels a day” or “I go to prenatal yoga three days a week and only eat organic,” nah, I’m competitive in a “YOU CALL THAT A BELLY?” I need help. This can’t be normal. If you are a woman and you have experienced CBS (Competitive Belly Syndrome) you’re not alone. Please share your story here. I won’t judge. I promise. In fact, I’ll send you guava bread pudding and when we meet, I’ll hug you.
Unless you’re more pregnant than me, in which case, run bitch. Run.
I’m thinking you will soon “grow out” of this CBS….well…maybe it will shift to the “I hate you and your tiny adorable round 6 month belly” stage. Much love!