As this pregnancy progresses, it seems that I have increasingly less brain capacity to deal with rational actions and thought. Do I get a pass right now? Yesterday, I professed to be an age older than I am and wholeheartedly believed I was correct. Don’t women normally say they’re younger? What’s wrong with me?
That’s not the worst of it.
Earlier this week, I saw something on TV that read “Ella Fitzgerald and Joe Pass…” This was the ensuing conversation I had with my husband:
me: Ella Fitzgerald died?
John: *confused*
me: silence…OHHHH, Joe Pass, not Joe pass, like Ella and Joe died.
And yes, I do know that Ella Fitzgerald died in 1996. I insist I must have fewer brain cells since I started growing a baby.
Embarrassingly, that’s not the worst of it either.
On Tuesday, I wore a new maternity skirt to work. I don’t even think it looks like a maternity skirt. It’s just a knee-length knit skirt with a stretchy waist band that folds over (see here). It was so nice to get away from the Bella Band and get to wear this for a day. I felt confident and pretty all morning. After lunch (I walk home every day for lunch), I headed back to work and was enjoying the beautiful weather, so I took my time. I think the whole walk took me about 10-12 minutes. I passed a few people I know and said hello. Finally, I got back to my office and sat down in my chair.
Something didn’t feel quite right. I could feel the plastic leather of my chair on my upper thigh. Oh no.
Yes, that was me who strutted all the way from home to my office past countless men with my skirt tucked into my vivid green underwear. That was me who ignored the quick two tap horn-honk of a man on post. I wrote it off as someone saying hello. That was me who made a complete fool of herself.
As soon as I realized what had happened, I untucked my skirt from my underwear — at least they matched my shirt for the day — and sat at my desk with my head in my hands. I tried to make myself feel better by reminding myself that no one from my office saw me. Or so I thought. Tuesday was also a co-worker’s birthday, and as we gathered in the conference area waiting for her, I noticed there was a guy there who doesn’t work for our company but works in the room next to me who witnessed “the event.” I imagined that as soon as I left the room he would tell his buddies what had happened, so I went the humor route. While everyone was looking at the birthday cake, I commented that I had earned a piece of cake today. I proceeded to tell everyone what had happened. They all found it hilarious, and at least it gave me an opportunity to laugh at myself.
And hey, now when someone asks me what my most embarrassing moment is, I have a good answer!
Oh my gosh! I would have cried!
And yes, you do get a pass! I liked to tell my friends they had pregnant brain! I’m sure Chelsea will agree.
Oh no! How embarrassing. 🙁 If it makes you feel any better, the skirt thing happens to almost every college girl who tries to combine backpack + skirt at some point – the skirt rides up, and you don’t know until someone points it out! (Yes, it happened to me! And I’ve seen it happen to others!)
How embarrassing and what a great idea to admit it fast-forward… Great idea. I’ll have to remember it the next time it happens to me 😉
As I’ve never been pregnant, I can’t say anything about the pregnant brain, but I think I’ve heard it somewhere before…
Oh Sarah. Sounds like a rough one but good for you for poking fun at yourself. Sometimes, that’s the only way to go. 🙂 And yes, Pregnancy Brain starts almost at conception. Bad news is it lingers and lingers and lingers. I have no excuese anymore… I actually asked someone the other day where Oxford is located?? Oh well. Look at it this way… you’ll definitely be smarter than your baby. Ha!
Pregnancy brain gets a free pass for sure! You can also claim it for up to a year after you’ve given birth. After that it turns into toddler babble brain and you find yourself speaking like a 3 year old (or is that just me?)
Did your bra match too? What a hilarious story!