Guest post by the Wife

As a pregnant lady, it feels like I've heard it all... questions about twins, being called huge and tired and miserable, being told that I am carrying wide practically daily, and now the predictions of just how giant Sam is going to be. These things annoy me, yes, but nothing gets under my skin quite so much as the word... waddle. F calls me Mamma Pingvin. It is sweet and endearing, and yes, I do resemble a penguin when I walk. Strap 30 pounds to the front of anyone and gait adjustments will have to be made. I have to heave myself out of bed, grunt when I roll over, and it's now a challenge to bend over. None of these occur while I am at work or out in the world. I think I do a good job day-to-day getting my work done without anyone knowing about my discomfort (well, except for the day last week when my freakin' maternity pants were too tight around the waist... I just had to complain!). All this is to say, that if you mention you saw me in the morning,, it's okay to lie (?) and say that I looked good. If you can't do that, please just don't say you saw me waddling across the street. Unless you're my husband and can also make me feel beautiful and loved, you're just being a jerk