I was just remembering how, in a post I wrote a couple of months ago, I said something along the lines of how I had to “splay out on the couch” to watch TV. And I’m not sure what I was going on about…because that? Was not splayed. That was, like, mild discomfort expressed through a desire to lay down rather than sit up.
Nowadays, there is splaying.
Full-body, spread-eagle splaying accompanied by “Ooooof”s when I flip from one side to the other. And the Ooooofs make me laugh, which makes things hurt more, which makes me Oof again, which makes me laugh harder, and it’s all complicated by Kendrick’s half-horrified/half-entertained expression and the dogs’ utter confusion over all the ruckus.
I’m not complaining: I think as things go (at least so far), I’m probably having one of the easiest pregnancies known to mankind, and I feel lucky for (or guilty about, depending) that every day. Aside from a little tiredness, some breakouts, one Virgil-related meltdown, and one Babies ‘R’ Us crisis, things have been pretty great. But I guess I’m going through a growth spurt or something, because the past couple of days have been…a touch less breezy. The Internet says it’s ligament-stretching; I say ow. But far more painful is the pride thing: there was some Danny DeVito-in-Batman-style waddling going on on the way home from brunch the other day, and I had to stop a few times to do that hand-on-the-lower-back lean. You know the one. And it’s sorta cute when you see other pregnant ladies doing it, but less cute when you think you might need to pop a squat in the gutter while said ligaments sort themselves out.
And right now (literally, right now), the only position that feels good is sitting down with my knees straight out to the sides and the balls of my feet touching. Super elegant.
But you know, in some ways all this discomfort (and I know, I know: I still have a couple of months to go – I’m imagining reading this five weeks from now and thinking, Oh honeyyy…you didn’t even know) is totally welcome, because the truth is that it’s making it feel realer by the minute. I mean, there’s no way you can construct an entire human being without breaking a sweat, and honestly? I love those left hooks to the ribs. Because I get to say “Don’t punch Mom.” And while that may be a less-than-fun phrase to have in steady rotation two years from now, at the moment? So fun.
Also: don’t punch Mom.
