clothes

This is getting a little old.

I have never been a good at being pregnant - but I promised that if I ever had the good fortune to have a third child, that I would relish the whole experience.

Whatever.

Aside from the all-day sickness, virus that morphed into leg paralysis, and inability to do my job properly - there is this little nugget, that I have never been able to avoid:

All maternity clothes fall into one of two categories: a)Suburban businesswoman trying to look professional while hiding an over-inflated beach ball under her smartly buttoned oxford . . . or B) Mother-to-be who never gets off of the couch, eats cheetos all day, and is content to take her kids to dance class wearing hot pink leggings and an oversized Pooh Bear T-shirt.

MY GOD!

And even when I do manage to find something without a screen-printed Tweety Bird, it is still revolting. There is absolutely nothing available that does not make me look like a) a nerd b) a slob or c) a druid from a George Lucas production.

I suppose that if I were willing to spend $76 dollars for a t-shirt, I could manage to look respectable for the next 4 months, but I can't bring myself to do it. Besides - even those shirts seem to take a crude delight in pointing out the obvious. A white tank I found, simply reads "Oops!" Another actually says "Sex Ed Dropout," while a third plasters a red foil star boldly across the navel proclaiming it's wearer to not only be pregnant, but apparently, also . . . a Sneetch.

I am just going to keep stuffing myself into my regular clothes as long as I can.