Post Natal Style.

I've stumbled upon a secret I wish I had found out years ago.

A few weeks ago I went to a used kid stuff store, and got me some pregnancy jeans. 2 pair of NEW looking & well constructed pregnancy jeans for 18 bucks. No, not each, TOTAL for both.  Looked 'em up. One brand retails for $150  (what kinda idiot?), the other for $70. I swear to you, they look like maybe they've been washed a max of 3 times.

But this is not the secret.

The secret is that pregnancy pants are the best pants ever, and everyone should wear them. No lie, if I could go back in time, I'd've warn these sexy things for years.

Reason's Pregnancy Jeans are awesome:

1. Apparently, when jeans are jean from the hip down, and spandex up from there, they are as comfy to lounge around the house in as spandex. If you think I say this in hyperbole, you'd be wrong. Before I purchased these, I'd wear spandex/thick leggings around the house, saving jeans for outings. Now, even if I don't think I'll leave the house, I'll put on jeans just to watch TV.

2. They fit like a dream. No need to find ones that fit your legs well, as well as your waistline.  I swear they look cuter on me than any jeans I've worn in the last 3 years. Snug on my legs, cute on my bottom, and even before I "popped," the spandex above the hip was awesome. No need to worry if the top band is cut too slim for for my curve, or so loose it shares my butt crack with the world... as long as it fits my legs, it wins!

3.  The perfect Thanksgiving Pants. Need I say more?

4. Potty time made simple. No unbuttoning and un zipping. The convenience of a pull-up in adult pants.

Captcha what?

Is it just me, or have these captcha's gotten a little out of control. I got a bunch the other day that were truely rediculous.  Prove I'm not a robot? How? because only a robot could possibly read this captcha, so if I get it right, I am clearly a spam bot?

Like this one...5040? 504C? 5042? 5840? 584C? 5842? 5640? 564C? 5642?

Or maybe it's clear as day, and this is just another symptom of Pregnancy-makes-you-feel-like-an-old-woman-syndrome.... I'll post on that one later.

Pregnancy according to Seuss

I "popped" this weekend. I swear—Thursday, I was like "this." Friday, I was like "THIS." Helpful description, I know.

Babies wanted to make sure I was ready in time for the 2nd trimester. Either that, or they  think that the Star Belly Sneeches are awesome, and conspired together.

Marie: "Wouldn't it be soooo cool if our momma were a Sneech?"
Donnie: "Awww, heck yah. I bet we could do some re-aranging down here and make it happen."

I can dig it, but if they think I'm gunna put myself through a belly tattoo machine, they're seriously disillusioned.

The Financial Wisdom of Old men.

I can't remember if it was my mother, father, or someone else that told me this story, but it's one I've never forgotten. It's about something Patriarch Whitney (from my hometown  ward/church) once said. Here is the story, in my own words:

A time came that Brother Whitney was considering buying a car for his wife.

Being of a more practical generation, he sat down and did math. Cost of car divided by life, cost of gas, cost of monthly insurance, maintenance, etc. 

In the end, he determined they would save money if his wife TOOK A TAXY every time she had to run to the store, wanted to go out to lunch, etc. So they didn't buy a car, and he told her to call a cab whenever she wanted to go somewhere. 


Strange, huh. You might think "ug, Cabs are expensive. I don't want to pay for a cab just to go pick up a prescription." But, in the long run, in some family situations, it might be cheeper than getting a car. 

I think about this when I think about car ownership. 2 cars is nice, but do you need one? Is ridding the bus really all that bad?

I've even decided that when I have the babies (brett is going to stop working from home and thereby will need the car to go to work so he doesn't have screaming twins distracting him), Brett can take the car, and I don't need my own yet. I can use it when he gets home. I can walk a mile to the grocery store if I really have to. A car payment, insurance, and gas, won't be worth the few times a week (if that) I actually make it out of the house with twins without B's help.

From Whistle Wok to Saltines and 7-up

We keep passing this place called Whistle Wok Ice Cream Chinese. The name cracks me up every time.  Friday, Brett decided to try it. I wasn't hungry (don't worry, I spent the rest of the weekend with an unsatiable hunger), but Brett had the joy of getting more food than Panda for lest cost than Panda, and not supporting a chain, all in one go.

Unfortunately, the food (according to Brett) was worse tasting than Panda... something I didn't know was possible.  I hate Panda. I used to think I hated Chinese... but mostly I hate Panda Express.

He then spent all of Saturday on the couch/in bed, sending me to the store, and very insistent it was food poisoning. He would not be getting his precious prego wife sick.

He got his prego wife sick. I threw up more times last night while I was trying to sleep, than I have in the last few weeks of pregnancy. (Week 10 picked up, and I threw up 3 full stomaches... but still no nausea and still like ripping off a band-aid Hazzah!)

I 've spent 30 minutes to "drink" a quarter cup of ice chips, just to throw it up. I've had to stop in the middle  of exploading from the "other end" just to turn around and vomit in it. I've had chills when I vomit, and something akin to nausea. A spoonful of applesauce burning my raw throat.

B spent the first half of the morning saying things like "I don't get how I could have gotten you sick?" That's right, my love. I might have all the same symptoms as you, but you couldn't possibly have given me "food poisoning." I must have something else.

Oh, true love. My sillly true love.

Anyhow, now I am lying on the couch, happily munching on the only thing I can keep down—a sleeve of  saltines—like some sort of pregnant woman

Dignity

I got teary today at a stupid video.

I want my dignity back.