New Clothes

Last week I told you I was preggo and this week I'm going to share with you one of the benefits: NEW CLOTHES.

So by new clothes, I'm not talking "catwalk, top-of-the-line, can barely breathe in them" clothes, I'm talking "eat whatever the heck you want, expands to allow for more food, breathable" clothes. These little, err big, wonders of fashion were made so that a preggo didn't have to care if her body was expanding in all areas, she could still walk without a wedgie and she could sit without creating an enormous muffin top. Ah, comfort.

There are these full-panel pants that are regular pants from hip to ankle, but a whole separate ball game up top. These gems are stretchy from your pelvis, up past your stomach, past your ribcage, to just right below your bra line. And, in the winter, that's like 15 extra inches of warmth my friends. I'm seriously contemplating wearing them after I give birth so I don't have to button another pair of pants again, but that may just be the laziness talking. Now, I'm not quite the fattest I can be yet, so I'm just wearing these pants now because: A. I have them, and B. My real clothes make me feel like a sausage.

The only real problem I am facing is that I'm not feeling all that sexy in anything I wear or don't wear, which I know comes with the territory. However, I'm pretty sure I should care, but I really kind of don't. I'd rather daydream about having a Victoria's Secret body after I pop out a kid, like they do on TV.