g-l-a-m-o-r-o-u-s (oh the flossy, flossy).

before i had kids, i thought pregnant ladies were the adorb-est.  i even used to have this artsy photo of a pregnant lady tucked in my bible, and i would get so melty just looking at it, until my bestie was like, stop being weird about that stranger, and i was like, yeah, you're right.  even now sometimes, when i'm not pregnant myself and i see preggos out on the town in their kicky fedoras and maxi dresses (because all other pregnant women dress so stylishly), i'm like, GAHHHH HOW U B SO CUTE?!  but then i get pregnant again myself, and i'm harshly reminded that there is nothing in this life like pregnancy to make me feel less womanly than animalian.  maybe i need to invest in a fedora.  and a jean jacket, if i'm wishing for stuff.  and i should definitely at least get a haircut at some point.

i mean, sure, there are really great things about pregnancy.  other people, bless their hearts, are always fooled into thinking you're the adorb-est, and you always get the best seat in any living room.  random strangers smile at you in walmart (that is, before counting the herd of children you already have in your cart and then giving you the stank eye for single-handedly overpopulating the earth and somehow stealing food right out the mouths of starving african babies by simply reproducing).  plus, you know, you're pregnant, which means new life and all that, so that's a definite 'pro.'

but really, guys, how is it that i always forget how truly barbaric i become when i'm pregnant?  i sweat profusely, i make too much spit, my nose runs, my gums bleed, and i sneeze all. the. time.  it's like all my orifices are staging a disaffected coup.  my legs get restless, my body temperature is all over the place, and i smell terrible, all things that result in approximately seventy baths taken every day.  if i get tired, i barf.  if i get hungry, i barf.  if i get full, or eat the wrong thing, or eat too fast, or accidentally hear NKOTB playing on the radio, i barf.  my attention span is nil, my emotional fuse is short, and i'm only feeding that beast by trying to act like life can be sustained on gummy worms and waffles alone.  also, for no apparent reason, my breath always smells like jalapenos and cheese. (mmmm, jalapenos and cheese.  no, wait, ew, jalapenos and cheese.  but, maybe jalapenos and cheese...)  and, while it hasn't shown up yet this time around, i frequently get a weird pregnancy mustache.

but i will say this:  being pregnant with lots of kids around is, in a way, weirdly better.  they don't care that i'm smelly and unkempt and facial-haired; they still feel like cuddling.  when i'm sick as a dog, sprawled out on the couch, they share their most precious blankies with me.  penelope always tells me i should eat something to feed the baby in my tummy.  they try their darndest to give me some space when i need to take one of my many (many) baths.  i feel a little more human having them with me all day. isn't it crazy (and a little counter-intuitive) how that works?