Complaint department

A couple of random notes:

a) Had a bit of a scare today. I noticed around 8:30p that Lord of the Dance on My Bladder hadn't done a jig in a few hours. I was trying to remember and determined that he hadn't made a move since 2p, just prior to a little marital frolicking. This freaked me out a bit. I was trying to surmise just how rambunctious we may have been and ponder whether we crushed him and then started to panic a little. So, as any good mother would do... I tried to make him as uncomfortable as possible: I filled up my bladder until I thought I was going to burst, I pulled the band of my pants around where I thought he'd be and sat in a position that would force him to move if he wanted to continue to thrive. It worked!! And now he hasn't stopped. It's been three hours. Some sense of humor he has. I'm so proud...

b) I'm a chunky girl. I own it. I am also cheap. I own that, too. Why, oh why, must it be so difficult to buy a pair of fucking maternity pants? Not hard, per se.. but expensive... and inconvenient. I don't want to go all the way to Motherhood Maternity and spend $45 everytime I decide I need something IMMEDIATELY. I went to Target to check out the Liz Lange selection. I had assumed her stuff ran small, just because she's such a bitch. I was right. I ended up having to buy a pair of regular pants two sizes too big, just so I would have something to wear tonight that was DIFFERENT from the ONE outfit I have been sporting for the past three weekends. Let me tell you... My thigh and ass size haven't changed, so a pair of pants that are two sizes bigger all the way around (except my belly, of course, is, most definitely, the least attractive thing I have had to do in the last six months. And I've had to do some pretty unattractive things. I sense strongly worded emails to certain retail chains in my future.