Ahh, what a week. I had one of those “little” projects that bloated up and pushed out a lot of other things that were supposed to get done. But it’s done. Submitted. Uploaded. Finished Forever. I hope…
Now I need to catch up on everything else. As a little update, this week I’ve also found myself growing past that inevitable tipping point when I can no longer wear my non-pregnancy clothes without doing irreparable damage to them (by stretching them out) or my pride. I had to break down and buy myself some maternity clothes.
In my mind whenever I see the word “maternity” in front of the word “clothes,” I instantly change it to “hideous.” I am not the sort of person who often, if ever, is accused of being overly fashionable, or even fashionable. So I think, if I know it looks bad, we ALL know it looks bad. Despite what seems to be on offer, becoming pregnant does not make me want to wear a lot of flowers, or paisley, or pastel stripes. I’ve got a baby inside me, I did not morph into a rotund 90 year old grandma.
So I promised myself a pretty scarf as motivation, and wandered around the hideous maternity clothing sites in order to get myself 2-3 black shirts and some pants.
There is one shirt that I love wearing now that I’m pregnant. Every time I put it on I laugh. I had it before, but I’ve decided it’s too good as a pregnancy shirt to not wear. It’s soft and stretchy and long enough to cover everything that needs to be covered. Here it is.
Get it? Because, you know, I am the origin of the species? or my species. Or whatever. I have to say, I love that Charles Darwin had ten children. Now there’s a man who practiced what he preached. Successful reproduction, that’s how you win the natural selection game.
The same company makes another shirt with the old book jacket of “The Lord of the Flies” which in my current position in life seems equally suitable.