11.09.2009

pretty woman


Oh hi, Sammy boy. How’s it going in there? Comfy? Cozy? Having a good time punching your mom in the gut on a regular basis? I hope so, little guy.

So, I know you’re not technically “here” yet, but let me tell you, you’re already making quite the impact on my day-to-day life. Seriously, in the last couple of weeks you have managed to turn me from a somewhat pulled-together person into a full-blown hot mess. I mean, if wearing Old Navy pajama pants and college hoodies day in and day out is your idea of pulling off that “hot pregnant” look, than I’m definitely doing something right, but something tells me Christian Siriano would disagree. Really, the only thing fierce about this girl is my unpredictable complexion these days. Yikes, it's not pretty.

But honestly, it’s not even about my deteriorating sense of style (which, let’s face it, was never really much of a style to begin with). Let’s break this down, shall we? First, let’s take a look at the “hot” part of the term “hot mess”. Now, I consider myself to be a somewhat clever girl, and I like to use the phrase “I just threw up in my mouth a little bit” when talking about something that makes me want to gag (can you say Derek Hough?), but man oh man, have I learned my lesson now. Let’s just say any meal I eat these days inevitably comes back to visit me later in the form of a fiery, excruciating stream of throat lava. Sounds delightful, doesn’t it? Oh, it is. And you know what’s even more delightful? The chalky medley of Tums you get to choke down in an attempt to solve this little problem. Yes, it’s all very attractive. I am definitely living proof that pregnancy ups your sex appeal, ladies. Jealous? No worries—your time is coming. Get excited.

Now let’s try and tackle the pile of “mess” I’ve turned into these days. Wowza, this is going to be a challenge. Well, let’s see, the other day, while watching three back-to-back episodes of “A Baby Story” (so frightening, btw), I came across a commercial where a mother and her daughter are skyping at Christmas time and then it turns out the daughter is on the mother’s front porch because she came home to surprise her. Holy bawling, girls, have you witnessed this commercial?!? Honestly, sent me into a crying fit for a good ten minutes. I know, I know, I’ve become a total pregnancy cliché. The only thing that could possibly make it worse is if I was, say, downing a tub of ice cream while crying during the sappy commercial. Well, there’s no ice cream in this apartment (finished that off last week), but chocolate-covered donettes (those are mini donuts for those of you that are less sophisticated and fancy than I am)? Those I do have. Actually, I take that back. I don’t have any delicious frosted treats because I polished off the entire box today! Surprised? I didn't think so.

Yep, pajama pants, hoodie, tear-streaked cheeks and chocolate icing under my fingernails—wow Sam, I haven’t even met you yet and you’ve already managed to turn me into a complete wreck. I can only imagine what a tragedy I’m going to become once I actually get my hands on you. Guess we’ll find out in 99 days, won’t we, sugar? Until then, I’ll just be over here wiping my eyes while Ellen and Portia gush over each other on Oprah. Don’t mind me.

8 comments:

Newly Nalevanko said...

Sar! This makes me laugh because you were absolutely gorgeous and glowing on Sunday!

oh sam, i can't wait to meet you.. and stop kicking your mother!

Katie Farmand said...

hahahaha, I am giggling at my desk, ignoring the stares from my coworkers. This is adorable and hilarious. You're definitely the cutest little pregnant lady ever, donettes and all.

Mister Sam is lucky to have such a fun, laid-back momma waiting for him!

Love you, Sar!

Kristin said...

Haha, I am literally laughing out loud. You, my friend, are hilarious, and I can't even imagine you looking like a hot mess. And, I'm pretty sure after a few years living together in the sorority house, I've seen what you would consider to yourself to be a "hot mess." I believe they are called hangovers. Let me tell you, it doesn't exist. :)

sbrown237 said...

Oh Sara - I am just so glad you are settled in Baltimore and you ABLE to veg out and be a hot mess eating cheap choc covered baby donuts!! Eat one for Same too.....

KTorg said...

Sara, Do NOT watch those baby story shows!!! They over dramatize everything.... I mean making statements about no wonder the mother had so much trouble because the baby was soooo big.. at 7 pounds 3 ounces. P-L-E-A-S-E!

Michael said...

I am witnessing your "hot mess" from an interesting perspective... sort of like a deja vu - flash back experience. It's January 1982 and I'm all decked out in my extremely sexual scrubs and isotoner slippers, sloshing around on the waterbed like your basic orca, 99 days away from giving birth to what your goofball Dad referred to as Buford! (Beam yourself up Scotty!) Anyway, you were beautiful the day you were born and you're even more beautiful now - especially when you're in full throttle "hot mess" mode. Enjoy every minute of your love story with Sammy. This is just the title page!

This comment might say it's from Michael because I can't figure out how to change my identity without losing what I've written...... where's the pound?

Sara Brown said...

oh Mom.....just when I stopped crying, you've got me going again! Hot mess ALERT!

Jessie Spalding said...

i am so in love with your blog!!! and i totally agree with KTorg, Baby Story is AWFUL and so not the most realistic show. Also, a great remedy for that heartburn--frozen yogurt. every night. tcby currently is serving pumpkin.