Pregnant and in overalls: I must have been high. Off life, and stuff.

While we were on our mini-vacation at le beach Rehobeth, the husb and I had a sort of "date day."  Whenever we're together and there isn't a child within 2 feet of us (not counting the "inner child") and do "adult" things like finish sentences, it feels like a "date."

My idea and standards of what is romantical drastically changed when I became mom-ified.  You don't necessarily need to go all white linen, expensive perfume wearing, $60 botttle of chardonney, red lipstick and jazz to be considered a "date."

You just need grandma or some other responsible adult to show up and watch the kid.

Here's what the math looks like:
me plus husb minus Milo equals date squared cosign and stuff.

I know, you might need a Texas Instrument to make sense of this one.

We had gotten  full-body, 1 hour massages.  Which, I highly recomend no matter-no time-any place!  Even though I can't lie belly down, there are some WON-DER-FUL techniques to rub out the tension that a prego lady carries in her back and hips (and shoulders and head and neck and legs and feet amen). 

Ooh -lala, health insurance should cover pregnancy massages...

In all honesty, if I wasn't pregnant, I'm sure we would have found the nearest sushi and wine joint and vegged out for 3 hours.  Sigh, maybe next month year...

After lunch, we stopped in at one of my favorite shops, Sunshine Octopus.  They totally fullfill my inner hippy child to no end.  I just love all the skirts and tops and tapestries and bongs jewelery.  One of the sales girls approaches me in all her dreaded hair and patchouli glory and starts chatting me up about these "awesome overalls"  that "you have GOT to try on!"

"You would look SO CUTE!"

Me: "uh, no."

She pulls out the brown corduroy number.

Me: " Oh, nonononono."

But then again, I've had a massage, I'm relaxed, I'm well-fed, there isn't a 3 year old in sight, and the Jimmy Hendrix playing in the store is really groovin' on me, man....I can't help myself...



Pregnant, self-respecting women do not belong in overalls.
This is my truth.

 A date with me= you never know whose pants I may be trying on.... ;)