The Most Beautiful...

Mark told me the other day that the most beautiful thing he'd ever witnessed was watching me grow a baby. I felt the most beautiful I had ever felt in my life at that moment. I'm not the most feminine of gals. Pink and dresses aren't my thug thizzle, but I definitely still have a strong female presence that goes beyond all the superficial.

The power women possess...the strength and the emotions...well, they're just sort of magical. When I feel beautiful in my skin it's like I'm sharing a moment with the Universe; humbling myself in front of The Big Guy Upstairs...accepting that the Universe's work isn't mine to judge...I'm thankful I have skin to feel good in.

I may rock men's clothes; delight in a pair of chucks and squirm at the sight of a pair of pumps, but I am so proud to be a woman right now.

I have to remind myself to thank Ziggy when she's old enough to understand. She made her mama feel like a woman. Not even Shania Twain or Beyoncé could do that!

Strong Women. Lots of Respect. Ellen and Anne You Rock.


I was watching my pretend wife  (That's Ellen folks...come on.) on the tele yesterday and was touched by Anne Hathaway's confession about cyber bullying. Two very strong and lovely women just sitting in chairs talking their truths. I LIVE for those moments.

It really resonated. I thought I'd share if you needed some wholesome woman power on this fine Friday.

Happy Friday, Folks. 

Da Bump (Chicago Style)


Please tell me you said the title of this post with the correct accent. If you didn't do this then we need to talk.

I know I said I'd write more and by golly I have been a writing fool when it comes to my journal, but alas I still don't have much to report on in regards to the super public stuff other than I lack da bump.

I'm now four months in (still sick as a seasick crocodile..which is green so I'm obviously maintaining some delight.) with a little growth above my belly button that I call a bump. Everyone else scoffs at it and says I look like someone who's just eaten a cheeseburger. I can hide it no longer. I am actually having a food baby.

The weird thing is I feel like I'm so knocked up I should be waddling. Sleeping is uncomfortable. Clothes are uncomfortable. How can one little cheeseburger cause so much discomfort? It's the phantom belly phenomenon...

Yesterday I went for my four-month checkup and it was the first time we really heard Ziggy's heartbeat for a long period of time. The last time we went in I had too much poop blocking the sound. (You didn't think you'd read through my entire pregnancy without hearing about poop, right?! You did! Ha! You silly mortal...)  This time I successfully cleared a path and there in that glorious room we heard the little swishing sounds and I melted. Healthy baby whose heart beats like a pro!

She's not even small for her stage or anything... I like to think I'm just a spacious caravan for a fetus' delight; lots of room in that torso area for stretching out like a G. So now I've stopped worrying my morning sickness is starving her to death. Home girl is doing good. I'm doing as well as a weird chick with phantom belly issues could be doing. It's all good.

Have I changed? Yeah probably. I'm going to auditions and reading child birthing techniques in the waiting area and I'm watching baby documentaries like it's nobody's business. Oh yeah, and I'm looking up other peoples' baby bumps to see if my cheeseburger is normal. Usually the internet is dangerous, but it's been helping me a lot. I wouldn't have been able to share the below picture of Octomom without such late night stalkings. 

Actual bump

What I feel like my bump is...
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