A Parking Lot Travesty

I know I can’t be the only person thinking this, pregnant or not, as my husband has declared the same thought:

All Parking Lots and Establishments should have Expectant Mother Parking Spaces!!!

Take a hint from Babies R Us, people!!!

Baby Bump on Board!

Baby Bump on Board!

Maybe once a woman hits 28 weeks pregnant they should give us a temporary Handicap tag or some kind of sticker that allows for special parking privileges.  It really can’t be that hard to figure out a good system!

Parking towards the ass end of a parking lot while almost 34 weeks pregnant is bad for everyone involved! It’s bad for me when I really have got to pee, like ASAP, and it’s bad for others who may slow me down while I’m trying my best to scoot into the store without peeing my pants. Can you say, “Look of Death??!”

Yes. I will shoot you the stink eye if you block my path. Beware!

Also, in the case of rain, the parking lot and walk to the store becomes dangerous and hostile territory! It’s probably the closest I’ll ever come to a war zone.  It sucks having to move at a normal pace and not being able to quickly shuffle into the dry, cozy confines of Target with everyone else.  Becoming drenched in sudden Texas storms has become all too familiar.

Shuffling/hurrying in the rain = enemy #1 while pregnant.

What if you slip and fall on the slippery surface? What if while slipping and falling you pee your pants? These are all very real risks.

For all these reasons, and more, I’m just dying for everyone to jump on the bandwagon and help us Preggos out!!

Rant over.

Have a peachy weekend. 🙂

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Hot and Bothered

I have been so hot lately.

Molten hot.  The surface of Mars hot, even.

Unfortunately for hubby it’s not in the “come hither” sense. It’s more like a “get all these covers off me and turn the fan on high – I don’t care if it’s only 61 degrees in here!” kind of way.

Last night was a HOT night of epic proportions.

Being hot and not getting any sleep make for a very unhappy pregnant woman.

6:30 a.m. saw me clamoring out of bed, grabbing the blanket from the floor (that I’d previously tossed of the bed at 3 a.m.), and trekking into the living room, pillow in tow, to try sleeping on my sweet glider/recliner/rockingchair (courtesy of my awesome mom-in-law).

I hadn’t had a wink of sleep since 3 a.m. and apparently I wasn’t meant to get any useful sleep in my recliner either.

Lucky me.

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