Last week, I stepped on the scales. Some moments of pregnancy just can’t be prepared for, and watching those numbers creep–or leap, as the case may be–steadily up into hitherto-unknown territory is one of them. I don’t think I would mind the weight gain as much if I knew it would come off as easily as it’s coming on. What’s also scary is my lack of motivation to get more exercise and to quit consuming hot, fattening, comforting drinks by the mug-ful.

Here’s how I feel about the whole thing:

I know how you feel, Pig.


The Pregnant Couch Potato