Chalk that one up to hormones

I’m not sure what came over me yesterday, or the rest of this past weekend for that matter. Between being tired, nervous and excited, I managed to lose my marbles a little bit.
Today I finally broke down and decided to search some baby websites to see when most people start showing, and it’s literally all over the board. Some as early as 8-9 weeks, some not til 16+. So right smack in the middle at  12 weeks pregnant, I will get over myself.
I also need to be honest with myself that I’m not really dressing to hide my pregnancy in any way. So of course it’s going to show that I’m more ‘middle’ than I was just three months ago cinched up in my wedding gown. And as the morning sickness fades more and more into the background, my appetite is letting me know what’s up.
And what’s up is, I’m growing a baby.

No I’m not 6 months pregnant, I’m just fat

That might be a little harsh, but as the baby starts to give me even more ‘gut’ than normal, I’m feeling a tiny bit self conscious.
It’s no secret, I wasn’t skinny before. So everything I had read was that ‘overweight people take longer to start showing’. And this past weekend I got a dozen belly rubs and nods to my expanding pregnant shape, I’m clearly in former fat girl hell.
I used to be a lot bigger, and ever since I started losing weight it’s been a constant battle. And after dropping 30 pounds over the past couple years (and gaining back ten), seeing my midsection expand is wreaking havoc on my self image.
Yes, I know it’s normal, I’m going to get much much bigger before this is over, probably exceeding my heaviest ever weight, and that is well within reason. But something in me has yet to click that will let me enjoy the bulge.
I guess if everyone around me hadn’t known that I was pregnant, I still might pass for fat, so I should feel grateful that I’m collecting belly pats and not side-eyes.
(Note to self: stop saying “fat”.)
Hopefully my psyche will catch up to my waistline soon, so I can enjoy that, while it might be well padded, my baby is forming quite the bump on my belly.

Identity crisis

So it’s been almost two weeks since the wedding. Since then we honeymooned, got insurance paperwork done, I went ten thousand places getting the rest of the world caught up on my name and then I…. did the dishes. And a couple loads of laundry. And hung out with the animals. And cleaned out my closet.
And today, I got my hair cut.
Like a lot.
Pictures from this morning:

And this afternoon:

I’m fairly certain my husband is going to freak out. I’ve told him for at least three months that I would be doing something drastic like this. I even tried to show him pictures.

The funny thing is, to me, it was way weirder to go to the BMV and getting my name changed on my drivers license. It’s something that most people will never see. Nor my new (shaky) signature.
Changing my hair is easy, almost second nature if you’ve known me very long at all. But who am I now? Brandon’s wife? Home maker? That girl rocking the super short hair?
And in time some of these labels will change probably… and new ones will be added. For now I’m just getting settled in my skin. Again.