So, my sister is knocked up! Pardon me; my sister is with child. A precious virgin child. What a miracle. Ha, ha, sucker!
Backing up a little, I have two kids. Daughters. Eight and three. They are awesome but also kinda jerks sometimes. I love them more than I ever thought was imaginable, but during my pregnancies, I was pretty sure this whole ordeal was some sort of cruel joke.
The only “glow” I exhibited was when the twilight moon glistened off of my blood-red demon lizard skin nightly. Yes, I’m claiming I turned into Satan while pregnant. I was fairly certain my children were going to be born with tails. Which does happen, by the way, they start out like alien-looking tadpoles, in case ya didn’t know! Thankfully, they developed into perfectly healthy little girls that only occasionally behave like the spawn of Lucifer. So we’re cool now.
But the point of all of that is to mention that I absolutely LOVE my little sister’s pregnancy messages. I laugh at her daily. We have always been fairly open with each other, but now that she’s asking my advice on all things baby and pregnancy-related, I get to really open up the floodgates of disgustingly graphic big-sisterly advice.
I’m literally IN LOVE with the story of her farts terrifying her poor little dog (my canine-niece, Ellie). My family firmly susbcribes to the “Fart=Funny” rule. They’re especially funny when you’re pregnant but not far enough along for anyone to actually know, so they just think something crawled up your ass & didn’t quite die but is trying desperately to escape.
It’s really nice to re-live the early stages of pregnancy second hand through the incredibly entertaining text messages I get from little sis daily. She has agreed to let me share a few:
~Regarding baby names, dad wants a boy to carry on his family name, which would make little dude’s initials/nickname “RP3.” Her response: “Sounds like a *bleeping* video game console.” For the record, I think it’s adorable and sorta hoping for a boy or else it will just be weird when I start calling random people RP3.
~Regarding the pic she sent of her car’s passenger seat full of candy: “they will be hidden in case he (boyfriend) will judge me. And apparently Swedish Fish are a ‘fat free food.’ So that’s a plus.” Yah, whatever makes you feel better.
~”Nursing bras are so much more comfortable than regular bras.” I’m with ya, it also takes a lot of willpower to stop wearing maternity jeans after the baby too. I purposely delayed losing my baby weight so I could fit in them longer. That’s a lie. I like cake.
~This progression of statements was grand:
- Is gas always this bad during pregnancy?
- Ate 2 hard boiled eggs as my snack during my car ride
- I can’t wait to crop dust all those drunk and high hippies I pass at the festival
Come on, fellow moms – we all know what it’s like to be the DD for the foreseeable future, drunk people are literally the wooooooorst when you’re pregnant. She gets a million points for thinking ahead, which is not something someone suffering from “baby brain” can claim they do all that well.
So summing up, her first trimester is as follows: farts, candy, names, bras.
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