Chicks Rule!

Oh man, pregnancy sucks. You know the outcome is good. The whole time I was just bitchy and whiny and gained 50 lbs and retained water and had a fat roll on my fucking face and I looked really bad and my coochie stank and I farted really foul odors. I had gas eeking out of me at all times. He was shocked that I could emit such a foul, noxious fume. I warned him. And it hung there like some poisonous cloud. I'd break wind and it would hang there.

The Dark Cloud O' Fartness

The only thing I just don't mind are the stretch marks. They don't bug me. It's sometimes shocking how many of them there are. I showed the girls which marks they made. The one's really low are the oldest one's. The one's sort of in mid range are the middle childs and then of course the one's way up high on my stomach are the smallest one's.

Oh yeah, and when I'd take a crap and wipe, I thought I was done. I was done. The paper was clean. I'd go back a half an hour later and wipe after I pee'd and there'd be more ...... crap there. And I had wiped. What the hell was that about? Maybe the baby was putting more pressure on my internal's and was squishing it out of my ass. I dunno. But it was there. And I cleaned myself often. Ya know?

And I puked for the first 3 months. I'd get up in the morning and vomit a lot. With the 3rd kid, I was vomiting all the way through.

Barforama.

I couldn't eat mexican because I would hurl that. I had a bloody nose every morning. I had headaches quite a bit. If you're pregnant or are planning to do so or not planning to do so and get headaches, it's probably sinus stuff. I had them with the third child and it's ok to take Sudafed.

I had a lot of mucous in my mucous membranes. That's a lot of what I remember. That and the noxious fumes emitting from my ass region. My poor poor Him. He's a good guy. I was sick as a dog throughout that last one and he took great care of me and let me be a bitch. Because I was so a bitch. Hormones up and down and up and down. Crying at commercials:

"The touch, the feel of cotton, the fabric of our lives."

Crying because I hit my head or crying because my oldest said:

"Hey watch it Chubby!"

She had seen that quote in a movie but it didn't help that I was packing on more weight than a sumo wrestler at a Sushi Bar.

I cried and cried and she felt sooo bad because I don't think she understood what it meant. Thus, since then my girls make an effort to say mommy's pretty.

Good girls.

I have trained them well.