Doggone It

I went shopping yesterday to pick up a few more items for my upcoming hospital stay. I learned my lesson with Jaz, who showed up three weeks before his due date. We were so unprepared and in a rush … all while I was in active labor. During the course of my hospital stay, Martin ended up having to go back and forth from the hospital to the house to bring things I needed that we forgot. He also had to swing by a baby store to buy a car seat and newborn outfit to take the baby home!

That’s not going to be the case this time, not if I can help it. 

Anyway, so I did some shopping. And here’s some math: the department store on base has 20 cash registers, 40 assistants stocking shelves and 2,000 spy cameras fixated on every female customer in the make-up aisles. And yet, the only two registers opened were the “10 items or less” lines.

I had 15 items.

Ugh. The bigger I get, the less patience I have for situations like that. I totally understand why mama cats go into hiding right before they birth their babies.

And these belly photos make me feel like Stuart Smalley.

I am 36 years old, I am 34 weeks along, I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.