I've lost the clothing battle.
This morning I had to break out the maternity clothes because, sadly, my "regular clothes" will not, no matter how hard I tug, go past my hips.
When people ask how far along I am, with a big sigh I reply, only 13 weeks. Meanwhile my hips and butt are screaming "5 months!!" and my stomach is saying "we don't see a baby just a lot of salty potato chips, ice cream, and anything sour she can get her hands on."
When Matt came down into the kitchen this morning he saw me standing there staring at myself.
"What's wrong?"
"These are maternity clothes"
He gently looked me over and said "those are maternity clothes?"
With the best whiny voice I could muster I replied "yes"
"Well Er, you're pregnant"
I hate it when men are so practical.
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