So I get dressed in pretty much the last dress that is still work-appropriate this
am... Because I refused to spend $70 on stupid maternity dresses and, thus, now that the belly is getting gigantic, my former respectable dresses only make me an attractive target for creepy men who have pregnancy fetishes because they are pulled up so much in front that you could probably see my voo if you tried real hard... I, unfortunately have tried real hard and cannot see it myself at this point no matter how hard I try to suck-in or maneuver the belly.
Anyways, dressed in dress. Warm, so I'm bare legged. Shoes. Crap. Shoes. What will I wear on my feet?
So with Jane on my hip (yes, I'm still carrying her - no need to lecture, I know I'm stupid), I slip into my black flats. Flats. Urgh. I am not a flats girl. I walk differently in flats. I waddle, in fact. I ask Dan if they look ok. To which he smartly replies "yes, they look fine". To which I whine, "I look frumpy!". To which he stupidly replies, "you're supposed to look frumpy, you're pregnant..." My response is to go back in and change into my heels... Just a "kitten" heel, not anything life threatening.
By 2:30pm, the ball of my left foot was basically aching and cramping so badly, I was limping... Like, no option but to limp because I couldn't walk on it without collapsing. An hour later, my calves spasmed and, despite stretching anywhere and everywhere I could without looking like a complete idiot (try stretching your calves in public without looking like an idiot...), my calves are now in knots and aching like I ran a half-marathon...
So, I'm bringing frumpy back...
Sexy is so 2009 anyways.