Woes

Aside from my meat hands, a few other physical ailments have become my constant companions during this journey.

I have meat feet, but that's to be understood. At the end of a long day of walking, standing, eating, etc...I pretty much have hobbit feet. My toes look like little weiner dogs...fat and roly. Not as much fur, though...hopefully.

I'm starting to get one of those lines. I'm not super tan or anything, but I'm not porcelain white and el doctor said that a lot of gals who have some color will more than likely get the line. It's called the linea nigra...linea...something. I can't remember. It's not very dark (yet), so I'm calling it the linea almosta. It's completely ridiculous and unnecessary, but nevertheless, it's there. It doesn't bother me at all...well, except for one thing. Supposedly, you only get the line from your belly button down. Well, that's just a lie. Everyone I know that's gotten it has gotten it there and from the belly button up. I even see it in pictures. But all the "medical" journals and what have you say it's only on the lower half...obviously men wrote those. Well, the lower half of the line I have is perfectly straight...great. The upper half...well, it's wonky and not straight. It's inconsiderate. I figure if you're going to tag along and get a free ride out of it, you should at least have the common courtesy to uphold yourself in an orderly fashion. Moocher line. Whatevs.

When I first got babied, people kept telling me that I would get "pregnancy brain." I'm like..."yeah, okay, sure..." Oh my gosh, no...it's totally a real thing. And it's craaaaazy. It all started when I went for a walk a few weeks ago in the neighborhood and couldn't remember which side of the road you're supposed to drive on. I couldn't remember David's middle name the other day. I forget a lot of people's names nowadays. I can't make complete sentences (well, that's always been an issue for me, so I guess that doesn't count). I was meeting Malinda for lunch last week and I got ready, looking super cute, grabbed my keys and purse, headed out tha do. As I was walking to my car, I thought, "Something feels weird. I feel like I'm missing something." I look down...shirt, check...socks, check...shoes, check...pants, nope. Yeah, I still had on my boy brief pajama bottoms. It's very sad. People said I would be clumsy...I'm not so much clumsy as much as I just run into walls.

I will say one of the many fun things about being babied is that you get to mess with people. Like, at DSW a few weekends ago...kid walks up to me..."Is there a baby in there?" I say, "Nah, I swallowed a watermelon whole. That's why you have to chew. I'm paying for it now." After seeing the look of sheer horror on her face as she backed away from me, I quickly threw out there, "Yes, yes, I'm kidding. There's two babies in there, actually." They usually like that and don't run away screaming, and at least I got my laugh. David doesn't think it's very funny...I do.