I can’t even type that headline without singing the Michael Jackson song in my head…but I digress…
With 5 weeks to go before my due date, I have been reminiscing about what it was like when I was first pregnant and hoping and praying and counting the seconds until I showed a teeny, tiny baby bump. Now that I’m exhausted at the end of the day from carrying around the extra weight, retaining water in my ankles and feet (super sexy BTW), and getting kicked in the ribs at least a dozen times a day, I stare longingly at my flat belly at just 8 weeks preggo.
Isn’t it nuts that at the time all I could think about was how I wish I’d lost a few more pounds before I started packing them on?
Now I just can’t wait to bend over and tie my shoes, walk up a flight of stairs without panting and having my legs go numb, and of course, hold a sweet chubby babe in my arms.
I’ll get back to that, right!? right!!?






