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Finding The Happy

Looking for joy in all the right places

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baby bump

Bump check: Week 29-30

I know of friends and colleagues who take a weekly shot of their growing bellies. Er… my phototaking frequency can be best described as “‘sporadic”. There are some couples who chronicle their lives with happy snaps. Unfortunately, Tony and I are quite hopeless when it comes to whipping out the camera. Which means Blobette will hit her 21st birthday one day and we’ll have NO EMBARRASSING PHOTOS with which to hold her ransom. It’s a worry.

Week 30
Nope... cant see my feet.
Gleeful at Week 30
Yes, Im getting rounder all over.

I’m apparently huge AND tiny right now. It’s about a 50-50 split. Twice this week, I’ve been told I’m practically a mini-van, and yet others can hardly believe that this “cu~ute little belly” is already 6.5 months old. I am thoroughly confused.  

I am therefore running a dipstick test to decide once and for all. Please participate.

Classical conditioning

[Friday 1 April, 11.56pm. After Blobette had essentially pummelled me for a full half hour…]

Me: Guess what.

Tony: What.

Me: I figured out how to placate Blobette. I fed her some chocolate.

Tony: What!

Me: It works! She’s not kicking me anymore.

Tony: You didn’t get me any chocolate?!

Me: You weren’t kicking me.

Tony: Oh, I could learn to kick you…

You know you’re getting bigger when…

  • … you can no longer remove your rings without contemplating amputation
  • … you can easily go back for seconds on the chocolate shavings / shortbread crumbs you’ve collected in that groove between your breastplate and your bulge
  • … no matter how high you’ve filled your bathtub, you want to sing “Islands in the Stream” when you’re soaking in it.

I am at the cusp of the third and final trimester, and while I’ve been valiantly staving off frumpy footwear and Fat Mama fashion thus far, I am starting to get the aches and pains that come with a burgeoning belly. One evening this week, I suddenly felt as if my rib cage were pulled apart by two metal wires retracting in opposing directions and if I didn’t know better, I could have sworn that Blobette was gripping a right rib with her toes while all that was happening.

Meanwhile, finding the optimal sleeping position is as elusive as the quest for WMD, and I usually wake up with some kind of shoulder ache. My new favourite toy: this wooden three-prong nobby thing that works like a three-fingered ninja massage of death. Apparently, I’m suppposed to rub it along my back in wide, gentle figure-eights. Yeah whatever. Most evenings now, I just prop it up against the back cushion and cheerfully stab myself with it.

For the curious:

Body Shop COTE Tri-Massager
Presenting The Body Shop's COTE Tri-Massager. Also known around these parts as the Tripod of Back Relief.

As for Blobette, she’s starting to pack more of a punch when she decides to do the amniotic riverdance. Which is delightful because I know she’s alive and well. But it’s also distracting, especially when I’m chairing a meeting and suddenly find myself pulling odd faces.

But don’t get me wrong, people. Don’t even think for a second that I’m having a dawg-awful time. Because I’m loving this.

How to silence a well-meaning man

[Velle enters a new Indian/Pakistani/Bangladeshi grocery shop. She admires the shelf of Masala flavoured Maggi Noodles, before turning to the nice Indian shop assistant hovering beside her.]

Well-meaning man: Can I help you with anything?

Velle: Actually, yeah. I’m wondering if you sell any fish curry to have with prata.

[Well-meaning man takes her to the first row, back shelf and points to the bottles of curry pastes.]

Well-meaning man: (Apologetically) We have mostly vegetarian options only. I do not know what the fish curries taste like. I am vegetarian.

Velle: Oh, that’s alright. I’ll have a look.

Well-meaning man: Can I suggest that you use these (points to dried spices) rather than the pastes? It’s safer. Especially in your… condition.

[Looks pointedly at Velle’s belly. Velle looks down at her own belly.]

Velle: Oh, this? I’m just fat.

[Well-meaning man looks like he accidentally sold his own mother to a slave merchant at last night’s poker game.]

Velle: I’m kidding.

Tony claims I was being evil. But he was laughing when he said it, so I don’t think I was being that evil. The Well-Meaning Man was laughing too – after he cottoned on. Because laughing is infinitely less frowned upon than strangling a pregnant woman for giving him that awful cold, wet, sinking feeling…

I have no idea why I did that. But I think I owe that guy at least a packet of masala-flavoured maggi noodles. At least.

Bump check: Week 18-19

At 18 weeks 6 days, Mommy was guzzling Chinese food. *nom nom nom*

Rub my belly like I’m Buddha

I had my first belly-grab today! You know, when someone reaches out and touches your tummy because you’re pregnant and it’s now apparently in the public domain? That’s the one.

Pregnant women the blogosphere over howl about the intrusion of having their bellies touched, but because I love this morning’s belly-toucher (she’s one of my many surrogate mothers here), I didn’t mind it one bit.

Anyhoo. Read someone’s comment about belly-touching on an old Mommyland post today, and burst out laughing.

I had a horrible time emotionally when I was preggo with my second. I had absolutely NO brain-mouth filter so what.ever. I thought came right out. In Target one day a complete stranger, middle aged woman-aren’t they the worst about this?, came up to me, put both her hands on my belly and said “Oh my, you feel about 8 months along.” So I reached out and grabbed both her boobs and said “Oh my, you feel like about a C cup.” She called security, I laughed and left.

Bump check: Week 16

I’m finally past the Big Lunch belly and have embarked on the “Okay, she’s definitely carrying something under her blouse” road. The one refrain about my Week 16 pregnant state has been, “Omigosh, that is the tiniest baby bump!”

Which is a weird comment, really. Because if that bump were that tiny, you wouldn’t be able to see it. Just a thought.

Anyhoo. For the curious and the overseas, here’s what they’ve been talking about:

Week 16 bathroom shot
Note to self: Need more practice in those Japanese photo booths.
Week 16 after work shot
Yeah, that halter top is working hard. Cheesy grimace!

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