It's not the Festive Specials, people. Well, not *just* the festive specials.

I've always had something of a soft midsection. When I gain weight, the first place it goes and the last place it leaves is the belly. People who know me are surprised by this, because I generally lean towards the slender half of the equation (thanks be to my father's beanpole genetic code for that one). But the truth of the matter is, I have a squashy belly. And when my friend's mom said to me last summer, while I had a beer in my hand, "you must be expecting, are you?" I shrugged it off because hey, I have a belly. All hail the belly which is usually well hidden but sometimes exposes itself at inopportune moments such as when friends' mothers are sniffing out potential new surrogate grandchildren.

But now, my pants don't fit, I'm using elastic bands to hold the button to the buttonhole, and I'm having to face the fact that I'm going to have to invest in a new wardrobe. But this time, the festive specials have nothing to do with it.

*picture of someone else's positive pregnancy test stolen from the internet, because I didn't take any pictures of mine. They're all under the sink at home, and now they're probably kind of icky looking because I peed on them two months ago. So to take a photo of them now would be kind of gross. Oh, look, first step in becoming a neglectful bad mother who doesn't take the milestone pictures she's supposed to take - complete! Whoowhoo!

At any rate, this explains a lot, especially the utter and complete lack of energy. Seriously, people, it's beyond frustrating. I'm not pukey (for which I am extremely grateful). But I am bagged, completely shattered, all the time. It's all I can do to get out of bed in the morning, get a shower, get dressed and head to work. By the time I sit down at my desk I could totally use a nap. I can't think, I can't speak. As you can tell from my sorely neglected other blog, I can't even write. I sit down in front of the laptop and put my fingers on the keys and promptly fall asleep. I am hoping this first trimester energy crisis will be over soon because, seriously people. I can't live like this. I'm telling you this: If he/she doesn't knock it off soon, this kid is NEVER getting the car.