Button Bomb

Scratch that last post. I officially had to shop for expanding clothing over the weekend. The button literally blew off my jeans once I squirmed into them. They fit everywhere else except the belly. It's strange to look in the mirror and see that your ass is still the same size (for now) but that you appear to have swallowed half a volleyball.

Hooray of the Day: Low-riders!

Cletus is taking the form of a small sphere in my belly. Very cute and round! Pictures will be posted soon.

People are starting to notice, and the belly rubbing has increased. Perhaps I'll start a Bridget Jones-like count. Instead of cigarettes and glasses of wine consumed, it will be more like: Weight gain: 5 lbs. V. good. Glasses of water, juice, and other non-caffeinated drinks: 4. O.K. Coffee: 1 cup. Excellent! BRPs non-duplicated (Belly rubbings from different people): 4. This is hilarious!

I haven't yet had to shop for the dreaded "maternity clothes." I've heard that they're not so bad now, but fashion and maternity have not always strolled arm-in-arm. I'll have to consult the "Hot Mama" book for advice. My friend Nyla, due October 7, showed me her trick yesterday. She had some stretchy black "club pants" from a couple of years ago and made little slits inside the elastic of the waistband. Voila!

Thankfully, the fashionistas gave us low-rider jeans, trousers, and underpants. Hooray! I can still wear most of my bottoms while Cletus peeks out over the waistband. As for tops, let's just say that the XS and several of the S sizes are being neatly folded and stored in the guest room closets and under the bed.

Technology+Pregnancy == TMI

So if one does a search of Google Images for baby head, the results go way beyond the point of too much information. That's a bad thing.

Our Cletus, on the other hand, will never be the victim of such parental indiscretions as posting graphic birthing pictures on the interweb or making a picture of the naked baby into our family Christmas card. MP3s, on the other hand, will be an important part of the process.

Yes, I just posted an audio file of my en route child's heartbeat. We're going to be that kind of technology parents who have a media archive the size of a modern presidential library amassed by the time the kid graduates fourth grade (they have a ceremony for that now, I hear). If you listen carefully to the MP3, you can not only hear heartbeat but an in utero monologue going on about some very nuanced and well formulated position on a global issue.

Rub here for good luck

I really want one of those t-shirts with the fat, happy, laughing Buddha that says "Rub here for good luck" or "For good luck rub my belly" or something like that.

As my little pot belly grows, people have felt compelled to put their hands on it. I don't mind, because so far they've all been people I know well, and they know I'm pregnant. I suppose when I'm more obviously pregnant (and not just squirreling away some extra pounds for hibernation), people I either don't know well or who are strangers will also be unable to resist the urge to touch Cletus's pod. Maybe I'll rub their bellies back and freak them out.

I've heard from a lot of mothers that they had to "just get used to it." Why wait for it to happen? Be prepared, I say. So, if you find one of those shirts, let me know where to buy it. Or better yet...I could probably use a medium.