I'm at that special time in a girl's life where I am pregnant enough to look chubby, but not enough to actually look pregnant.
I just look like I ate a Chipotle burrito or have been constipated for 6 days. (Both of which happen to be true.)
My normal clothes are starting to fit a little weird.
I even got my maternity clothes out of storage (which are now scattered throughout my house since I am too nasty/lazy/nauseated to put them away).
Last time I was knocked up, I fought hard to stay out of maternity clothes and didn't start wearing them until month 7.
This pregnancy I will probably start wearing them next week. Why? Because I don't care.
And because I made sure to buy a really amazing maternity wardrobe. Unpacking them was better than Christmas.
I figured that since I already felt huge and gross being pregnant, at least I should be able to dress cute.
Plus, Jared couldn't argue with me about how much money I spent since I would just cry and tell him he doesn't love me or the baby.
Amen.
