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Have Belly, Will (Reluctantly) Travel

I’m currently writing this post from the (un)comforts of the passenger side seat of my our small SUV. We’re en route to my parents for the weekend, five hours and one million complaints away.  I’ll be the first to admit it. I’m a bad traveler when pregnant. Ask me how I’m doing (or don’t, I’m going to tell you anyway), and I’ll serve you a barrage of complaints.

 

Four hours in my five our trip, let me count the ways I’ve annoyed my husband:

The seat belt digs into my lady region and it makes me need to tinkle. Sitting in this seat too long might crack my vagina in half.

I’m hot. I’m cold. I’m craving a Snickers bar.

Oh, and can we stop at Mc Donald’s and get a large soda? Save the cup, I’m probably going to need it to vomit in later.

And no, I will not stop whining about how I left my very favorite tempurpedic neck roll pillow at home. All my complaints would be null and void if I just had remembered to pack that darn pillow.

Did I mention we’re traveling with the dog? We are. He’s sitting right behind me and he has bad gas. Can someone pass me the Mc Donald’s cup?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that I get to travel and see family this weekend, or more specifically I’ll be glad when we actually get there and I can sprawl out on the floor and stretch my swollen cankles.

I know, I’m being a whiny baby. You don’t have to tell me that, my husband already has.

Know what I think of that?

I’ll give you one response: ARE WE THERE YET?! HOW ABOUT NOW?

 

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