Twenty-Twelve : Twenty-Six Weeks

Happy New Year, and Happy New Week! I'm now at the tail-end of my second trimester, and the bottom of my fourth tub of belly butter. I'm not one that thinks they prevent stretch marks (because they don't), I simply like the feeling of being all lotioned up and massaged. It's my one prissy thing, okay?

And lest you think I'm normally a glam gal, I give you Exhibit A:

This is me on any given day or night; stretched out maternity shirt, men's boxers and my hair up in some sort of messy bun. No make-up. Rarely shoes (unless I'm in public). I'm all about the comfort nowadays.

I think the ladies of the 60s and 70s had it all right with their tent dresses and muumuus. Screw jeans, I want a tablecloth to wear.

Ahem:

Tunic/caftan thing from Silk and More on Etsy. My brother bought me this for Christmas, which surprised the heck out of me. He's the guy I used to simply exchange CDs or DVDs with and he's upped the ante. My mom bought me the earrings in the last pic, but I don't know from where.

My friend Kelly said, "You look comfortable...and an awful lot like Mrs. Roper from Three's Company."

Huh. Well look at that. [scrapes dignity off floor] I'm kidding. I couldn't scrape something off the floor if I wanted to. I'm not exactly bendable.

I haven't gone back to the doctor yet, and I haven't weighed myself either. I have a good scale at home, but I can't see around the belly to read the numbers. I did, however, manage to figure out how to paint my toenails. It took three pillows, a Snoogle, a towel and a lot of grunting. It was worth it.

There are stretchmarks, but I'm not too worried about them. I'm carrying twins, you know. The belly button has completely given up all hope, but I think it's amusing looking.

I am feeling better. I let myself be blue for a bit after my last not-so-great appointment and then decided to buck up. My grandma used to say something like it was okay to be sad, but not to cry all day.

I decided to fix my hair and paint my nails and do my make-up...get up and get dressed and make myself feel pretty. "I'm big as a house" I said to Robert. "Nah" he said so genuinely, "you're more like a duplex."

 I'm a duplex. In a muumuu. And that's okay.