Head Bangers Ball

Holy CRAP
Originally uploaded by briannedrlich.

I am only posting this photo because people have been asking to see just really how big I am at this point. Pretty big, I would say.

Because I am tired and I have no brain power to spare, I am going to post an e-mail that I sent to Bermes. This pretty much captures my sentiments:

Today I am wearing another belly shirt because my shirts do not cover my belly. And in a grand gesture it is my last day for my first pay of maternity jeans. The lovely tiny ones that I should have stopped wearing 3 months ago, but I don’t do laundry anymore so it is all I have. I am like “fat guy in a little outfit” nowadays. But, I don’t even care, because I cannot keep up with my big fat self, and I am not spending money to do so. So, I am going to wear my tighty jeans and my tiny tank top and my tiny shirt over it, because it is all I have. I am retiring these jeans after today.

In case you were wondering, I did not go into labor yet. I am thinking that this baby is loving my belly and he is never coming out. My stomach will reach 5 feet in front of me and fall off, crack open, and out he will walk, twiddling his little mustache. Last night he continued his nightly ritual of **pelvic thrashing, which is something I dread. I love when he moves, but not when he thrashes. I hope this does not mean that he is destined to bang his head on things as a child, because jake is really against bike helmets. I think it may have a small correlation to eating chocolate at night, because lately I have been having one candy bar per day. I don’t even care anymore. I haven’t had this many candy bars in my entire life put together. Damn the chocolate.

I am becoming a bitter, pregnant lady now. Looking at stretch marks every morning and night is more than I can bear. I totally understand and agree with plastic surgery now. I want it as soon as I deliver.

Isn't that pleasant? I think I was having a bad day ... Anyways the "Pelvic Thrashing" as aforementioned is really just that. I found out yesterday at the doctor that he hasn't dropped into my pelvis at all, thus making it seem as though labor will not begin for many weeks of new developing stretch marks. I have noticed that at night he likes to try to fit into my pelvis by banging his head against it. That is oh so much fun. I ask him nicely to please stop, but if that's what he's got to do to get out, then so be it. Or, he could just be banging his head around because he likes it. Much like Philip the Hyper Hypo. (which explains the chocolate AND the bike helmet)