Retail Therapy

So, today was kindof a big day at the doctor's office. I had my hopes up that I was going to go in, they were going to look at me and say, "okay Kim, you're 3cm dilated so why don't you go home, pack your things and head to Duke." Brahahhhaaahaaa lmao! NOT! Dr. Quinn checked me and I was fingertip, high, not effaced, and HIGH! What the crap! So, she said there's some work to be done before Mr. Seth makes an appearance. I left disgusted. Jay of course, was beaming. He could handle another few weeks he says. He says he has things to do; like work on a sub-box that he's building, we have to move, and he's enjoying the evenings fishing or spending time in the garage. I can TOTALLY understand. It is definitely nice to have a little bit of independence. I mean, let's be honest here. I'm not looking forward to leaky boobs but my body is sure taking a toll this pregnancy. I'm as big as the damn house! And, even Jay said earlier in the week that I look small from the front but have a "torpedo" belly from the side. (His words exactly.) I mean honestly, my maternity tops are getting too short again; and damn, I hate buying more hoping that any second this little 9 month adventure could come to an end. I was in need of some desperate retail therapy when I left the doctor's office today.
It just so happens that we have an awesssome Goodwill by our house. It could be because we are surrounded by multi-million dollar houses, or because we live in the state's capital. Not sure. Anyways, I thought that I would go by there this evening and see if I could find any metal queen bedframes and just browse. Of course, I had my eyes peeled for the biggest, fattest damn maternity shirts I could find. I'm tired of squeezing in this and rolling down the tops of that. Ridiculous. I found a pair of jeans and 2 shirts. And, thank God they aren't too frumpy but definitely cotton. Don't get me wrong, cotton is a wonderful thing but when I lose some of this baby weight, my ass is getting into something cute. If you're tiny, the Goodwill is the place for you! I was sickened at the size of some of the jeans and tshirts. I mean, my boobs are the size of Texas right now, and I haven't even delivered. Lord help me!
So, back to the story. I browse over to the shoes because, everyone deserves cute shoes, and your shoe size never changes. YEAH RIGHT! I see the cutest pair of Enzo Angolini shoes--black heels to be exact that are my size. The top of my foot busted out of that thing like something horrid. Automatically, I was like 80 years old, trying to fit my fat ass foot into something made for a 30 year old business woman. As my best friend said the other day, I should just get some easy spirits and call it a day! I mean, seriously? I thought that shoes were supposed to make me feel better. Needless to say, I put back on my crocs and continued my shopping.
I managed to find a sweet lamp for one of the kid's rooms that had ABCs on it, and some books for Parker Jay. I guess it wasn't a failure all together. I was hoping to get myself some labor juju by buying a few more maternity tops. For some reason, I don't think I'll be that lucky.
God bless the pregnant ladies in the world.
Baby love,
Kimmie