I love Boyd. However, when the stakes are high, he does not exactly thrive under pressure. I give you the following exchange: Me: “I am as big as a house. There is no clothing anywhere on the planet that is big enough to fit me. I can barely walk across the room without passing out,… Continue reading what not to say
Months ago, I made the transition from a person who would never wear an elastic waist to someone who will wear nothing but. Now in my sixth month of pregnancy and gigantic beyond belief, I have crossed into strange new territory where even the elastic waist is too constricting. When it’s time to get dressed… Continue reading fling wear
When I was pregnant with Lila, I ate like something out of Fit Pregnancy magazine. Vegetables, fruits, fish, flax … and certainly no flour or sugar. My biggest vice was the occasional handful of prunes, which I craved constantly but only indulged in now and then due to the high sugar content. In addition to… Continue reading gingerbread baby
I love our marriage therapist, Paula. She gets all teary in sympathy at my now-sixth consecutive month of morning sickness, and kindly insists that I am not as fat as I think I am. But what endears her to me most is that she looks like someone who would have a really nice house to… Continue reading nap at your house?
So here I am, pregnant with our second child and, I don’t mind adding, sick as a motherfucker. I am nauseated absolutely all of the time, but this has in no way hampered my nearly overnight transformation from a normal-sized person to a very fat person. I am suddenly and completely huge. Consuming roughly 80,000… Continue reading preggie pops
My lack of recent posts is due to a bout of paralysis after the unpleasant aftermath of my post, “The Party Guest.” Apparently, even when nobody but your husband knows that you have a blog (which means that nobody on earth actually reads your blog), google searches still work. Thus, people who have their names… Continue reading PTSD
Four weeks after Lila was born, I joined a moms’ group with other new moms who had babies of the same age. There are ten of us in all and, miraculously, they are all people I’d have chosen to be friends with. In fact, the absence of a Designated Misfit, or at least a discernible… Continue reading the party guest