adjust the attitude, miss.

If there's one thing I hear from pregnant chicks, especially pregnant chicks who have gone round this particular carousel once or twice before, it's "Oh God, I feel so fat already. Last time I didn't even shop for maternity jeans until I was 6 months pregnant. I peed on a stick last week and I'm already in leggings."

I feel you, sister. 

I've taken to freeballing on the weekends (and Friday counts as the weekend) since I only have 4 pairs of underwear that don't give me muffin top. 

If I'm home, I'm probably naked. Or in a bath robe. Same reason as above. The only thing that still fits me is my own skin, and I don't even know how long THAT is going to last.

Everything is round. Not just my belly. My thighs. My slabs of upper arms. My chubby chin. My puffy feet. I feel like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.

Does this neckerchief make me look fat?

I have three maxi dresses that I rotate through weekly. They're long. They're cool. They're forgiving. They make me feel a little bit hip (rather than just hippy.)

But I had a lightbulb moment the other day. 

I'm not fat.

This is just what you look like when you're really good at sex. 

So the next time you see a round, round mama waddling down the street in a maxi dress and flip flops, her upper arms jiggling sensually with every step, her mouth slightly open as she pants from the exertion and her decreased lung capacity, her kangaroo-pouch belly thrust out proudly in front of her, just remember - that lady has some serious game in the sack.

Respect.

And respect yourself, mama. You're a wildcat.

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