Okay, I'm just gonna say up front - very clearly - there will be NO pictures accompanying this post.
ON PURPOSE. No one wants to see documentation of what I am about to discuss....or at least no one SHOULD want to see documentation!
I am officially at a phase of pregnancy I strongly dislike. Not because my stomach is so large I have to completely wake up in the middle of the night if I want to roll over. Not because I get winded by putting socks on. Not even because I can't fit in a booth anywhere. And definitely NOT because of the constant movement my Boy Bean generates.
It feels like I am housing Ty Pennington! Seriously - I think the Boy is renovating my insides to make it more man-appropriate.
Not a single one of those things do I consider the most annoying/frustrating facet of late-pregnancy.
It is the underwear.
Now, I am almost a mother of four....I'm not really one for itsy-bitsy-floss-undergarments. (Not going into detail on what I am though!) But these things that I am stuck wearing now.....these pieces of fabric that seem to unfurl from my underwear drawer. . . they are just ridiculous! Seriously.
If we ever had a fire, I am certain my Beans could parachute from the second floor - safely - by using my maternity underwear as parachutes.
Kinda puts a damper on somehow keeping the spark.....when you put such a large item on.....and then you can't see any of it. Not a bit.
So, to all of you ladies out there who can actually twist to see your derriere, or can actually look down to get a visual on the location of your waistband....I am jealous. I look forward to rejoining your ranks soon. Until then.....I need to go make sure the washing machine is balanced for my delicates load.