Towards the end of the day this past Saturday, I started to think that I was finally showing a baby bump. Brian saw the difference through my thick coat and was adoringly patting my belly. In fact, I even updated my Facebook status saying, “I think I started showing this afternoon. Not this morning. This afternoon.“
Naturally I received several sweet comments ranging from, “:); I think I could tell on Wednesday, even if I didn’t already know. (giggle)” to “I’m sure it’s been ‘showing’ on your face for quite some time =) There’s so much beauty and serenity on the face of a mama-with-child.”
Then I awoke on Sunday morn and – false alarm! – my bump was gone.
Apparently Brian was adoringly patting my gas belly, ’cause that’s all it was. (You’d have a gas belly, too, if you horked down as much meatloaf as I did.)
So I’ve discovered that in the evenings my belly protrudes a bit, and in the mornings I don’t look pregnant anymore. It’s sort of a Now-You-See-It-Now-You-Don’t game.
There were two more lessons learned that Saturday:
- When Boston Market gives you a certain number of side options, you must always – ALWAYS! – opt for two sides of mashed potatoes. One is simply NEVER enough.
- It takes less than five minutes to go from feeling disgustingly stuffed to surprisingly hungry. No exaggeration.
Our conversation leaving the mall on Saturday evening:
Brian: You wanna get some dinner?
Me: Oh, no! I’m still SO stuffed from lunch. That was so much Boston Market.
Less than five minutes later we arrived home and I felt a twinge in my tummy.
Me: So… What are we having for dinner? I know I said I was stuffed, but I just got hungry. I’m going to need to eat soon. Do we have potatoes? Can we make mashed potatoes?
* – commencing urgency and despair – *