04 February 2010

Written 2 April 2009

I was sifting through my old un-published drafts and happened upon this. Written when I was dangerously pregnant with Le Bebe and none too thrilled about it. I had titled it on making out in public and other things. It's long and rambling and, being unfinished, end abruptly... but maybe it's funny anyway.

I thought it was, at least.

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I ventured out to the grocery this afternoon since we were running dangerously low on grape jelly and PB&Js are one of few things that bring me true joy these days. Fortunately for me and due to the intelligence of shopping center builders of yore, Kroger is right next door to K-Mart and I was able waddle on over there to pick up a couple of things for less than the take-out-a-loan prices I'd pay at Kroger.

I should take this opportunity to say that I am not fond of K-Mart. I hear that some towns have really nice and even Target-esque K-Marts, but our town is not so fortunate. Our K-Mart is cluttered and dirty and has hideously dim and most of the time blinking overhead fluorescent lighting. Oh, an the general population of folks who shop at our K-Mart have mullets and beer guts... and the men are worse. I really like some of their bedding and housewares and they have great deals on play clothes and baby supplies, but a trip there leaves me feeling, for lack of a better word, icky. And like I need a couple good doses of Zoloft. So, I don't go there too often.

I'm sad to say that I fit in at K-Mart today. It was going to be a quick trip for a few necessities so I opted out of makeup. I picked out one of 4 things that still fit and are reasonably comfortable but decided against the Bella Band since any additional undergarment was only going to multiply my general irritableness, so yeah, the bellybutton was very presently protruding through the t-shirt. I also donned a cap in hopes of concealing my identity to some extent and a pair of years-old brown flip flops since they matched my shorts and showed off my sexy chipping toenail polish. I was already icky, so I figured K-Mart wasn't going to bring me much lower.

So, I hauled myself out of the car and proceeded to weave my way through the other parked cars. Not an easy task when you yourself are the size of a Smart Car. Which may seem like an okay thing since those little guys are so cute, but, believe me, I left the realm of "cute" back in second-trimester land. Or maybe even first-trimester land. It's all a fog at this point...

But I digress...

I passed in front of a little pick-up truck and for whatever reason glanced up into the cab and there was a couple in there who either really liked each other or were attempting to count one another's fillings. Now, since I've unfortunately taken part in my fair share of public displays of affection, I do not feel like a little church lady shaking my head in true "kids these days" fashion when I say JUST DON'T, OK? I'm not one to tell people to 86 the making out altogether (although it probably isn't the best idea for non-married folk who wish to remain pure), but perhaps K-Mart's parking lot is not an ideal place for it to happen. I fought the urge to stop in front of their truck and draw as much attention to my pregnant belly as possible just to show them what can happen if you don't watch it.

In the end, their display made me pretty uncomfortable (yes, it was that grotesque), so I waddled all the faster on into K-Mart.

Onto other things...

I feel that I have reached that point where pregnancy is turning me into a generally unpleasant person. As I said earlier, I've completely passed the point of cuteness and have entered the realm of scary. I can't even imagine that people are looking at me because they're pondering all the magical-ness of pregnancy and new motherhood. I can only assume they're looking at me and wondering where the nearest heat source is for fear that I could pop. Meanwhile, I find myself having all measures of unpleasant thoughts toward non-pregnant women as well as unnatural urges to run up to other pregnant women, hug them, and weep with reckless abandon. Meanwhile, none of my maternity clothes fit the same as they did when I was pregnant the first time around and quite a few of them don't fit at all... leaving me with the same 4 frumpy, tent-like options each and every time I leave the house. I've also found that I feel very self-conscious in the grocery because I feel like if I even pause in front of anything doughnut or ice cream related that anyone nearby is sniggering at me.

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