You Know You are Pregnant When...

You know you are pregnant when... no one can find a spare pillow in the house because they are all tucked between your legs and under your arms.

You know you are pregnant when... you engage in a high speed car chase because "that asshole just cut you off".

You know you are pregnant when... you leave work to make a bank deposit and come back with the deposit receipt...and an ice cream sundae.

You know you are pregnant when... your breasts now need their own zip code.

You know you are pregnant when... everyone gets your voicemail when they call because you don't have the strength or motivation to get up from the couch to find the phone and answer it.

You know you are pregnant when... shopping no longer interests you because nothing fits over your muffin top anyway and too many accessories increase your risk of varicose veins.

You know you are pregnant when... you look like a hairless monkey from the waist up, but everything below the belly button resembles Chewbacca.

You know you are pregnant when... peeing feels better than sex.

You know you are pregnant when... you grunt like a pig every time you get up out of your chair.

Pregzilla

I. am. hormonal. I may seem to hide it well in public, but let's just say I am lucky to still be married right now. I am a nasty, nasty person, and I can't help myself. Sometimes, I feel it coming on, like I'm just sitting there happy as a clam, and then - boom, I am irritable and snappy. It is usually triggered by delayed mealtime ("Lay off me, I'm starving!") or when I am in the middle of one of my shows and am interrupted (I'll be all warm and snuggled in a blanket, riveted by an intense episode of Law & Order or a Lifetime Original Movie). This inevitably leads to shouting and throwing of things nearby (remote control, dog bowl - whatever I can get my hands on, really). And then, I feel the baby kicking, which makes me feel REALLY guilty and sad, so I cry. Multiple this 4x per week, and you have an environment that no one likes coming home to, not even me: the Aggravator.

I think they should have a temporary compound or assisted living home where pregnant women can go during the second and third trimester to seek shelter and serenity from the daily grind. Somewhere where they can gorge themselves on rocky road and danishes and watch all the Grey's Anatomy they want. Just saying.