Ever since discovering we were expecting our second child waaaay back in June I have been dreaming about February. The month in which I will finally expel this human from my body. Because listen. I’m as tired of moaning about pregnancy as you are of hearing about it. But when you’re fifty pounds overweight and the victim of Braxton Hicks contractions, like, five times an hour… Contractions that cause you to either puke or pee… Well, suck it, man. That’s all that’s on my mind.
Well, that and cheese, of course. And also candy.
Suddenly I’ve developed a fixation with Jelly Belly candies. You know, the ones with the insane flavors like Popcorn, which I like. I currently want to have sex with Pear. And also these.
Aren’t they beautiful?
So I’ve got two more weeks of work left before the big Maternity Leave kicks in and I just cannot even begin to fathom how I will make it. I’m down to two work appropriate ensembles and by work appropriate I mean the fabric covers my skin. Barely.
Today I had to throw on a huge sweater-like shawl-type poncho item so that my giant ass wasn’t just hanging out and talking to people without my knowledge and Manager McManagerson said I looked like I mugged a fat hippie. I laughed big, wheezy, fat lady guffaws for ten minutes. Because it was funny. Still. Bastard. I will cut him when I’m not hobbled by bloat and weight.
My watery misshapen feet only fit into my imitation Uggs, did I tell you that? And when Violet tries to sit in my lap for a story her little bum just hits my belly and then she slides onto the floor. She doesn’t fit!
Did I mention how delicious these are? Heavenly sugary nipples of joy, they are.
Would it be wrong to create a baby registry containing Jelly Belly candies? Serge? For Valentines Day maybe you can just load up in the bulk section of Target? That would be, like, so hot. I will let you rub candies all over my body if you feed them to me afterward.