"Walk this Way"

Ah, the joys of the third trimester:  the impending due date, a now very obvious baby bump, the sometimes uncomfortable but always reassuring kicks and squirms from baby, putting final touches on the nursery....but we all know that mother nature can't leave well enough alone, so she added a few other things to the list as well: heartburn and the acid-vomit burp, swelling in places you never thought possible, the awkward "bend-over-while-crossing-legs" move that becomes second nature when you sneeze so you don't pee your pants, (*this is quite fun to explain to curious onlookers in TJ Maxx: "no, I'm not in labor, just lost control of my bladder, thanks*). And now I can officially add the "preggo waddle" to my list.  

I admit, I always found it adorable to watch extremely pregnant women walk around- one hand on the small of the back, the other hand on the belly- it seemed like the classic "preggo" stance.   Oh, how that has come back to bite me.  I don't even think I'm that big yet, but apparently I am just big enough to have to modify how I walk.  I've discovered that it's not just the belly that causes this- it can be the type of pants I'm wearing or even the shoes.  My old navy maternity jeans are currently getting stretched to their breaking point.  Now, this could be attributed to the fact that my hips are widening to make way for the 13-ish cm head that will be descending in a few more weeks (um, ouch).  OR, it could be the fact that I have four (actually, now only two) boxes of Girl Scout cookies that start calling my name the moment I set foot in my kitchen in the mornings.  *sigh*  Either way, my pants are getting a little less comfortable these days and if I didn't have to look presentable for my piano lessons, I would seriously be rolling up in Jake's oversized flannel pajama pants.  The other day, I was wearing these particular pants and some cute black thong sandals I bought at Target last year.  It was 80 degrees here, and I was already sweating more than I care to admit. I had no idea that my feet were capable of sweating so much, by the way. *Ick*  This meant that I couldn't get any traction on my plastic wedge Target specials.   So let's do some quick math: baby belly + tight jeans + sweaty feet + sweat-slicked plastic soles of Target thong sandals = me, waddling up my students' walkways.   Just call me "Daffy."

I plan to celebrate this minor milestone by investing in some bigger jeans, a new pair of shoes (preferably with better traction)....and maybe one more box of Thin Mints.  ;-)