The final segment...
7) "Wow, you're so Tiny!/Huge!/Tired looking!/Gorgeous!"
It's hard to know what to believe when so many people tell you so many different things about yourself while you're waddling past their desk or grocery aisle. Some days I feel radiant, with an E.T.-like glow emanating from my heart region. I'm sure my belly is just the right size, that the weight I'm gaining is perfectly normal and that my hair is definitely curlier than it used to be. Other days I feel like Shamu, dragging my bloated self wherever it has to go, wrinkly, bloaty, saggy bits and all.
I never know quite what to believe when people tell me I'm something or other; I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It helps that my radiant days outweigh my Shamu days so I try not to care what other people say. Except D, who always tells me I'm beautiful and means it. Even when he's informing me in awed tones that my bottom is starting to resemble Beyonce's.
8) The Name Game
Names are VERY IMPORTANT. So we are NOT calling this child "Carmen Paulina" after D's two brothers. Nor are we calling it "George W. Lowry" as D recently suggested. (He loves to aggravate my lefty proclivities.) But what DO we call Bumbo once s/he arrives? I have a list of names but none of them seem quite...right. D has some suggestions too, but again...nothing feels quite right. Perhaps we'll leave Bumbo nameless until we figure out a moniker that actually suits the child. THAT oughta rile the relatives.
9) The Stupids
I used to call this phenomena "baby brain," but The Stupids is what my colleague's husband calls it, and it's more brutally honest. Someone else told me it's called "momnesia," which sounds more clinically acceptable.
Again, I blame this one on the aforesaid hormones doing their crazy dance through my body. It is downright embarrassing to be mid-sentence in a conference call and forget what you were saying. Literally. Eg:
Disembodied conference call voice: "So Kimberlee, how will your department manage this change?"
Me: "Well, I'll ensure our documentation is updated today, and I'll post a reminder in our....um....our....I'll be sure to..." UNCOMFORTABLE SILENCE "Right, I'll make sure the department's, um...ready."
It's times like these I thank all my stars that I am not an air traffic controller or brain surgeon.
Also popular: walking all the way upstairs, then standing in the bedroom trying like hell to remember why I'm there. Cursing, walking downstairs, then wondering if I'm supposed to be upstairs.