Growing....

When you get to a certain point in your pregnancy, you longer care how you look or what you wear as long as it is decent. This moment came quicker than expected for me for one particular reason....

Let me start at the beginning.

It was really hot this past Sunday when I went over to my friend Sarah's house to play her new wii. I didn't want to wear pants, but my shorts were getting tight in the rear (am I carrying the baby in my butt? apparently), and my other pair were more pajama shorts, so I wore my tight ones.

When I got over to Sarah's, I got a glass of water, and had to bend down in the fridge. "Um, Janna," Sarah said. "You might want to invest in a new pair of shorts. Nice pink underwear, though." I was a little embarrassed that she had noticed how tight they were, and a little taken aback that she would mention it.
I just sort of shrugged, and we went about playing the wii.

Afterwards I stopped at Quiznos to pick up some food, and when I got home, changed back into the comfy PJ shorts.

That night when I was folding my clothes I noticed a 3 inch RIP in the rear of my pants. I mean it was huge, and the weird thing was that I never heard it rip. I mean, I didn't think they were THAT tight! I went all those places without any idea I was flashing everyone my pretty pink underwear.

Now that I have had my little flash show for the public, I don't think it matters what I wear or how I look, I don't think anything can top that.