Fun with Fashion

You would probably never have guessed this about me, but I'm not much of a shopper. I KNOW. SHOCKING.

However. I am reaching a critical stage in my wardrobe in which I have been left with very few items of clothing that cover both me and the man-cub. And so rather than see me spend the rest of my pregnancy in sweatpants and A.'s wool sweaters (yeah, I probably would have mostly done that), my mother and sister decided it was time to get out the whip and force me to the mall. Where we spent three hours--THREE HOURS--in maternity stores and maternity sections. Where they pulled out top after top, most of which I rejected as completely hideous (because they WERE). There was also a very frustrating search for a pair of black pants that was ultimately victorious at Old Navy, of all places.

Here's the thing about shopping for maternity clothes: It's not fun. Especially if you're not much of a shopper to begin with. I mean, the purpose of regular shopping is to get clothing that you feel you look pretty good in. That's not really the point of maternity shopping. The point of maternity shopping is to get clothes that will still cover you in five months when your belly has swollen to alarming proportions. To this end, maternity stores helpfully provide a little pillow you can tie around your mid-section, so you have an idea of what you might look like as you approach the finish line. And as to that, I say: YIKES.

But thanks to the relentless prodding by my mom and sister--bless their drill sergeant hearts--I managed to procure several tops and one pair of pants that fit. And I only had to take a two-hour nap to recover.