Oh the joys of the last weeks of pregnancy. Saturday we had our good friends over for dinner. Since it might be our last opportunity to get together before Baby V arrives, Joe and I wanted to make a nice dinner. Nothing wrong with eating to your hearts' content in the last weeks of pregnancy, but the standing around all afternoon in the kitchen preparing said dinner is not advisable. Take it from me.
I knew that I should have sat down here and there, but my obsessive nature kept me going. Just one more thing; just one more thing. I just want to cut up this, and then I'll sit down. Well, 6:00 snuck up on us and I hardly sat down.
By 9 o'clock Saturday night, mind you I had been sitting since probably 7:30, my feet felt really hot. Without looking at them I took my socks off. Hey, we were all friends and no one but Ginger could see my feet under the table. A bit later I had to get up for something and I glanced down at my feet and gasped in horror!
My toes, all ten of them, looked like vienna sausages! My ankles and the rest of my foot had the thickness of a ham hock. Quelle horreur! It was terrible. I mean I don't consider myself as having particularly attractive feet. But damn, this was bad. There was no curvature or definition from the top of my calf all the way down to my foot.
Sunday I was much smarter. I'd do a few things on my to-do list, then sit down and put my feet up for 10-15 minutes. I will not be posting a photo of my feet for you because I fear it could induce serious anxiety... or laughter.