Now that my stomach has taken over half of our zip code, I so totally have not been walking around nearly let it lead my entire body like I'm walking it on a leash or something. I so definitely have not rationalized that if I have to be as big as a whale that I should at least proudly flaunt it and use it to maximize benefits.
I have not let it all hang out while standing in a two-mile long line at the bathroom at the mall so that many someones would take pity on my poor smooshed bladder and let me go first. And I did not rationalize that I was doing everyone a favor by playing the pregnancy card so that they wouldn't have to watch the custodian come and mop up my pee because I tried to hold it for way to long considering the circumstances -- an at least six-pound jumping bean doing the Mexican Hat Dance on my poor bladder.
And since I've had no luck with quick trips anywhere lately, I did not let my tummy muscles relax to the extreme so that it bumped out even farther than normal while standing in the self-check out line at Jewel trying to manage a squirmy toddler so that the lady with the HUMONGOUS cart of groceries would just let me scoot in front of her with our container of yogurt. I also did not rationalize that by doing this I was performing yet another public service so that the people in the store did not have to be deafened by a toddler who was about to completely and totally lose whatever cool he had left for the day. Nope, not me!
And because I so totally have not relied on the kindness of others twice this past week to make my very pregnant life a little less strenuous, I haven't totally vowed to pay it forward at least twice what I accepted this week ... and I haven't counted letting two cars instead of only one into my lane of heavy traffic as one of those random acts of kindness.
And lastly, I have not consumed three decaf pumpkin spice soy lattes this weekend just because it felt like fall and I wanted that warm tingly feeling on the inside of my body that only comes from that specific drink despite the seven million jillion calories each one of those frothy little beauties afforded to, I'm sure, my hips. No way! I own a Curves, and I'm totally healthy all of the time -- 24 hours a day, seven days a week .... minus the three hours this week that it took me to consume those steamy, hot, hand-crafted, blissful wonders in a cup. I mean, NOT minus those three hours because they never happened. Ever.