Well, I seem to be entering the third quadmester of my pregnancy. I have four different 'seasons' when I am pregnant; the first quadmester is extreme airsickness although I am standing on the ground; the second quadmester is superhuman weight gain, the third is using my body as a personal floatation device (major water retention) and the fourth is the feeling like one of the those chickens you cook in a crockpot. You know the one; nice and tender and when you go to take it out to put on the table the leg you grab with the tongs falls off. That's me; major flexible ligaments. I have some sort of wacky ability to pop all sorts of joints; I consider myself my own chiropractor. I can even pop a bone on top of my foot. So when I'm pregnant parts of my hips and pelvis I thought were one solid mass start to shift around in uncanny ways.
Anyway, I realized that I am in the third quadmester this morning as I was attempting to remove my rings to slather myself in tanning lotion. Nothing worse than a bloated, fat, close-to -40-white pregnant woman I say. And I've heard that tanned skin hides cellulite. And I've got a bridge I'd like to sell you.
Well, really should go. Tough day ahead; funeral for family friend who died of lung cancer. Although I didn't know the man well, I did know his mother a little and I know my husband who is traipsing around the island of Nias (hit by 9.0 earthquake after the Indian Ocean tsunami) looking at the devistation and making a recommendation to CRS for future work there, would want to be there. And it's good for these boys' I am raising, to wear pants for one day in their lives and go be considerate to others.
Then over to bro-in-laws house to be a commercial break in everyday post cancer operation life for a couple of hours. I have to say that all the post op patients I've seen on Grey's Anatomy and House didn't prepare me for this. I'm so mad that with cancer, it seems that sometimes the cure is as bad as the disease. I joke with him that he is still the good looking Richardson brother, no matter what.
Have a good day. If you need a great break and a laugh, check out the book 'Momzillas' - kind of a 'Devil Wears Prada' for us brood hens of the human race set.