The Time I Threw Caution and my Underwear to the Wind

So, I know most of the pregnancy sites give great advice. I like to read these while I'm eating my deli meat sandwich, drinking a soda, and polishing it off with a large bowl of ice cream. I'm usually also watching my yoga DVD during this time. Key word being: watching. I feel like its important to support these flexible, athletic woman, but I do my best supporting from the couch with snacks.

But I digress: One piece of advice that is given is to take baths. Because when you're the size of a house its best to go ahead and acknowledge the fact that your naked body can no longer be submerged fully in a tub of water. I've never looked better than when desperately trying to pile bubbles on body parts that have morphed into alarming facsimiles of their old shapes. These lovely lady lumps need a medical intervention, but according to professionals I should strip down, get an eye full, and try to drown 34% of my sorrows. The other 66% of my body is above water level, cold, clammy, hypothermic, and experiencing a mild case of depression.

Since my current past time of watching other pregnant women work out hasn't been giving me a whole lot of relief I decided to go the bath route. We are trying to sell our house( that is a WHOLE other blog right there in itself). We had several showings yesterday evening. So, after I harnessed my inner domestic goddess I shoved the laundry under the bed, dusted only the visible parts of the furniture, sprayed cleaning products haphazardly at random counters, and vacuumed around stuff- we headed out. We were gone a good amount of time. My husband, noting my cheery disposition with the children decided to give me a little break. He dropped me off and headed to run an errand.

This is when I made the fateful decision. I decided I was going to try to take a bath. So, I strip down to all my naked glory. At this point it really is a sight let me tell you. I'm in the bathroom, naked, trying to avoid direct eye contact with myself in the mirror. If I don't visually confirm with my own eyes my current pregnant situation it doesn't exist. As I am gliding(waddling) around naked to prepare my bath I hear a knock and cheery HELLO!

This is when my heart stops and my uterus contracts. The last showing must be extremely late. All the doors are open. I am naked. Naked. Full blown panic mode ensues. My flight or fight response is engaged. I am the baby rabbit being chased by the hyena. Except in actuality I am a giant, fat, swollen, naked, pregnant lady who hasn't seen her feet in 2 months and these are innocent bystanders just looking for a roof over their heads- not  extreme trauma or a heart arrhythmia. Most sane people would just try to get dressed quickly and leave. Well, I don't do rational decisions well. What do I do? I make the split second decision that attempting to put underwear back on this glorious frame requires way to much time and energy so I THROW my underwear in the trash and toss on random clothes. I should mention the trash was completely empty. Therefore, my lovely maternity panties are BLARINGLY obvious. In my fit of panic this is the price you pay for trying to submerge yourself in some water surrounded by children's toys.

I run out of my room. Scare the realtor half to death. Mumble some random statements, and run out the backdoor without shoes. I should mention I don't have a vehicle. And it's raining.

So here I am, sitting outside, no underwear, no shoes, a hell of a lot of problems, in the rain waiting for my husband to come rescue me.

So, THAT, ladies and gentleman is why pregnant women should not take baths. Random house hunters do not need to see these lady lumps, and unless there is a major shortage in clothing material I should always stick to wearing underwear.