baby bump-ish

It's spring outside! Buoyed by the beautiful weather, I decide to wear a dress instead of jeans. This is pretty momentous, at least in my own mind. I shimmy my way into a dress I bought a couple years ago -- nothing fancy, just something that seemed comfortable and cute at the time. I don't remember it being quite so stretchy ... or so snug. Hmmmm. I adjust a few things and survey myself in the mirror. Actually, the rear view is better than usual. When did all that junk get in my trunk? I rotate to profile and -- yikes! Silhouetted in this Spandex-laden dress, there is no disputing it: I have a baby bump. Well, I sure look like I have a baby bump, but I guess it's just a bump ... or is it?

My mind is racing, counting the days of the month ... could I be "with child?" I have been extremely tired lately. Yes, the bags under my eyes confirm that. And, I've been eating a lot. All day long. And my back has been hurting, and I've been getting these headaches. But I had assumed I was just tired, sore and having headaches. Come to think of it, I have also had this urge to bake cookies and clean the house. Oh my gosh, I think I might be nesting! (Gasp!)

As I pull on a pair of jeans and suck in my baby bump in order to button and zip them up, I think back over a decade to my first pregnancy and try to make a checklist of symptoms. Check, check, check. Oh, wow. I decide to keep this to myself, rather than alarm my husband.

During my swing through Target, I waddle along to the "feminine products" aisle and buy the cheapest pregnancy test available. I need to just take a test and get it over with. If I'm pregnant, I can eat whatever I want! I can wear a Spandex dress and show off my baby bump, while shamelessly eating a Black and Tan sundae at Fenton's! I won't have to worry about my weight for a good eight months! Oh, how liberating it would be!

By the time I get home, the delirium has worn off and I have forgotten about the pregnancy test. I remember it several hours later, and proceed with the test. It is a generic brand that I have never used before, but I figure I don't need the instructions. Peeing on a stick is pretty self-explanatory. Now, for the results. When I was trying to get pregnant, it seemed to take an agonizingly long time for the results to appear in the little windows on the pee stick. This time, however, the results were almost instantaneous. BAM. There it was. But what did it mean? I realize that since I have never used this brand before, I don't know how to read the test. Now I wished I had paid the extra money for the name-brand pregnancy test that clearly says, "PREGNANT" or "NOT PREGNANT," instead of making you decipher these random lines. I retrieve the box from the trash and find the legend to decode the test.

One line. Negative. Not pregnant.

Just fat.

Next time I go shopping, I think I'll go buy some Spanx.

happy eating on mother's day

It's Mother's Day! My day to celebrate myself! I woke up to my husband making coffee and trying to figure out how to turn on the oven to make chocolate croissants. His coffee always tastes better than mine, so the coffee-making part was not unusual; apparently, the oven-turning-on part was a bit of a stretch. I helped him out with this, then waited for one of the kids to wake up so they could put the croissants in the oven. After we ate them, my husband and the kids made blueberry pancakes and bacon. Yum. More coffee, more food. I am happy.

I am still working on my pancakes when my daughter pipes up: "Would you like some cheese?"
"Well, I'm pretty full right now. Maybe later," I say with a motherly smile.
"Okay. How about some cheese for lunch? Or maybe some Arizmendi pizza? Because it's Mother's Day!!!"

Cheese is my daughter's favorite food, and she knows I like it, and Arizmendi pizza, too. It is an expression of daughterly sweetness that makes my heart melt ... and spasm with guilt. Apparently, my Pavlovian behavior around food has not gone unnoticed. Am I really that obvious? I fear I have permanently damaged both of my children's relationships with food. For the rest of their lives.

Sigh (again). I will have to deal with that later. For now, I will just happily eat my way through mother's day.

Is it time for Mocha Frappuccinos yet?