Anybody else watch “How I met your Mother”?
There’s an episode called “Murtaugh.” Murtaugh is a character from Lethal Weapon, and has a famous line:
“I’m getting too old for this shit.”
One character on the show has a Murtaugh List – a list of “stuff” he’s too old for. Things like getting his ears pierced, and going to a rave.
I’d like to make a pregnant equivalent of the Murtaugh List… because, I’m getting too pregnant for this shit.
Presently on the list;
bending over to buckle the backs of my sandals
This past weekend, we celebrated my lovely sister’s bachelorette weekend. Her wedding isn’t until late July, but considering our impending new addition and the limitations of what my body will be capable of come July, we decided to do the celebration sooner rather than later.
Hello everybody! I’ll be your designated driver for the weekend.
I don’t know if you know my sister, but… she’s kind of a big deal.
People know her.
Not one, but TWO local businesses made special accommodations for us on a busy graduation weekend… JUST because this was for my sister.
“I couldn’t have made this reservation if it wasn’t for your sister.”
“We don’t usually reserve tables on a Saturday night anyway… but for your sister…”
I hope she reads this and immediately feels special.
She’s a local celeb.
Being as such, she is quite popular and had many friends to include at the festivities. It was a weekend long bonanza with various parties coming and going and numerous locations (some of which fell through at the last minute) and let’s just say that this pregnant lady was hoofin’ it pretty good around Walla Walla to make sure things were organized and everybody knew where they needed to be and when.
Is this what it is like to have kids?
When you’re visibly, noticeably, unavoidably pregnant, and everybody else is there to uh… get DOWN… you become acutely aware of a few things.
#1. Your boobs are bigger than anyone else’s that anyone has ever seen. Be prepared to talk about them.
Drunk people have no filter. So as our first night of fun progressed, several of my sister’s friends made louder and louder comments about my growing bosom.
People I don’t know.
And once they realized I could hear them, they started to ask me questions about them.
Yes, me and my cups are traveling aggressively towards the end of the alphabet. Let’s all discuss over drinks and charcuterie.
#2. Your belly holds magical powers and, like Abu in the Cave of Wonders, people just can’t resist the insatiable urge to touch.
Dude. Hands off.
I realize that you’ve been eyeballing me and this gut all night. I know that my bright yellow top is doing nothing but drawing attention to the contours of my ever-moving stomach. But for reals dude. No touchy.
People want to grope you when you’re pregnant, especially people who have been pregnant before. And drunk people are way more brazen than normal people. Normally self-respecting adults lose all sense of propriety when inebriated and in the presence of a gloriously pregnant woman.
But they also have short attention spans.
So it’s a quick and painless grope session.
#3. Drinking in restaurants and bars is REALLY expensive.
#3a. Also, pregnant ladies get more free drinks in bars than bachelorettes.
I got mocktails sent my way all weekend, and none of them showed up on the bill. I drank more pomegranate juice last weekend than I’ll ever drink for the rest of my life.
Something about being pregnant AND tolerant AND the designated driver AND still making an effort makes the bartenders take pity on you, I think. And mocktails are pretty awesome, ladies.
They still feel special, even without the booze and umbrella.
I think that I’ll miss mocktails when I HAVE Baby Dub more than I’ve missed cocktails during my pregnancy.
And I’ll certainly miss the cheap tab at the end of the night.
#4. Pregnant-Fabulous and Regular-Fabulous are two different things.
I wore what I consider to be a fabulous maxi-dress out to a fancy restaurant on Saturday night.
And the waiter couldn’t tell I was pregnant.
I arrived at the restaurant first to make sure that the reservation was okay and see how much room we had (a-hem… we had PLENTY of room). Our dedicated waiter came to check on me and introduce himself. And he offered me a cocktail.
“No thanks,” I said, patting my belly pretty obviously. “I think I’ll be tapping out of the cocktails tonight… and for the next couple of weeks.”
My sister-in-law-to-be was in the bar and overheard the waiter go back and tell the bartender, “Well, the hostess of our bachelorette party is being VERY responsible. She’s not drinking or anything, she must want to keep it together for the group.”
No, buddy. I’m just 8 months pregnant.
That maxi-dress is out of the rotation.
#5. Family first
My sister is one of the most fantastic people I know. I had a blast getting to know some of her friends over the weekend, and seeing her in her element, and showering her with affection and hopefully making her feel special.
For her, I’ll stay up past 11.
Two nights in a row was pushing it.
Let’s add that to the Pregnant Murtaugh List. Staying up past 11 two nights in a row?
I’m definitely getting too pregnant for that shit.