You know what's hot?

There isn't anything glamorous about pregnancy. In fact people purposely don't tell you about the weird shit that happens to your body until you are in fact knocked up. Then it is no holds barred, they share and share and scare you into some serious hypocondria. I had eleventy different things to ask my doctor every week.

I was lucky that I escaped puking daily (I know you hate me.) But in exchange for that I got me some serious Hobbit feet. They were enormous. Add to that a super sweet cankle and the fact I couldn't reach (or see) my feet and pluck the little toe hairs. Hot.

My husband confessed after they had safely shrunken back to their normal cute selves that he was afraid that the hobbit feet were permanent. He was wise to wait to confess this for sure.

Also, I got PUPPS, which sounds all cute and innocent but is really this fucked up rash that takes over your stretch marks (yep got them too) and are all "fuck you, you have stretch marks and now I am going to make you want to cut you skin off with all this itchingess." I didn't sleep at all the week before Mr. Fantastic was born.

But it isn't all bad. Aside from that fact that you know, you are growing a person, you get awesome hair. Thick, glossy gorgeous hair. I could have been a freaking hair model. Penelope Cruz had nothing on me. I swished back and forth over my shoulders like I used to when I was a kid and I had a high ponytail (you know you did that too.) It.was.awesome.

But of course it was just a dicktease. The other day I started molting. I have handfuls of hair clogging up the drain, clumps being brushed out of my head. Annnnd once again I am a freak. I think my husband is wisely biting his tongue on this one too.