I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm now waddling. (In case you're wondering, I also joined the pregnant bloggers club, but no one seems to read it). Anyway, if you didn't guess, yes, I'm expecting. I'm now six and a half months along, having a boy. We all know it's going to happen, there's no avoiding it. I've been trying to get some exercise for the health of the baby, as well as for "an easier delivery". Uh huh. So, on days when I don't feel like absolute crap and the weather is nice, hubby and I take walks. I tried to keep my legs closer together, and my feet facing straight, but discovered that I really had to concentrate to do it. I finally admitted to my husband, I think I'm starting to waddle. For the uninitiated, waddling happens in the latter parts of pregnancy and is caused by the relaxing of and stretching of ligaments, joints, and muscles. The pelvis widens to make more room for the delivery of the child, and the resulting effect is your "cute" little duck walk. Ok, all of you fellow waddlers know good and well that there is nothing cute about it. It just makes you feel fat and inefficient.

I suppose the one good thing about the waddle is that we know the actual event is looming ever closer. Which I'm not sure is a good thing. I'm kind of not prepared for this, even though it's the third time around and I know what's what. Ask me again in late August, and I'm sure I'll be begging the nearest person on the street to do a c-section right there to put me out of my misery. At least once he's born I won't waddle anymore.

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