Eleven Weeks Today

I'm finally starting to feel pregnant. The other day I went out searching for some stretchy pants since the last time I tried to wear my regular jeans I felt nauseated all day. Nothing at Salvation Army came even close to something I would wear if I weren't pregnant (high-waisted polyester, anyone?), so I finally caved and went to a second-hand store devoted to maternity and baby items.

The owner -- he was Middle Eastern, I think -- was a little overbearing. I was scanning through the jeans in the "small" section because, even though I'm more of a medium, sometimes smalls run large or things get misplaced. He walked up to me and said, "You are a small?" I said, "Well, probably a medium," and he said, "I think so too! The mediums begin here!" and pushed all the smalls I was looking at over on the rack. I have dubbed him the Maternity Nazi.

He also informed me that I was due in August (thanks dude, I had that one figured out) and that the baby was a boy. I'm not sure the baby even knows what gender it is yet, but I'll keep that in mind.

I did find a pair of jeans I would wear anyway (dark-rinse denim with slightly flared legs) that had a three-inch band of elastic where the regular waistband would be. I plan on wearing them this Friday night when my husband's band plays. I haven't been out on "the scene" in months. No use subjecting baby to cigarette smoke (second hand, mind you) and rock 'n' roll until all those vital organs are formed. Then, all bets are off. Just kidding.