Belly "perks."

I sat in my classroom today and watched different sections of my belly move up and down.  Literally. 

Make sure to check your Webster's tonight...I'm pretty sure the defintion for the word "strange" has officially been updated.  It now states: 

Pronunciation: \ˈstrānj\

Function: adjective

Inflected Form(s): strang·er; strang·est

Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French estrange, from Latin extraneus, literally, external, from extra outside 

Date: 13th century

Definition: The feeling that a first-time-mommy-to-be has as she gazes down at her stomach and watches it rise and fall due to her unborn child moving around inside of her.  

The expression "my body is no longer my own" has never rung more true in the past 24 weeks then it does today.  I literally have lost control over the "stillness" of my midsection.  Weird huh?   

This new development has had my brain wandering to weird "mommy mind" places.  I find myself thinking...should I avoid banks for the next 4 months? What in the world would I do in the off chance that I get caught in a heist and the robber says: "Lady, move a muscle and I'll shoot."  Do you think he'd take pity on me due to my complete lack of control over my undulating stomach?  You're right.  I'll be sending Daddy Perks to the bank from now through August.

Speaking of my active little tyke...I also feel it's my civic duty to admit something to you so I can get it off my chest.  It's important that you all know that I scolded my sweet baby Henry for the first time the other day.  Now-before you go and call child protective services on me, let me explain.

 Daddy Perks and I were in a hurry to head to a birthday party this past weekend and as I rustled through my minuscule maternity wardrobe (*Note-it's not fun to wistfully stare into a gigantic walk-in closet and realize that my clothing options hang on about 7 hangers total.) I went to grab for a pair of shorts (thank you weather gods for 80 degree weather in April) and all of the sudden felt my little one do some sort of rediculous karate move in my stomach that litterally caused me to wince in pain and yell "Ouch Henry!"  To which Daddy Perks bolted out of the bathroom and said : "Did you just yell at our son?"  To which I thought...define "yell."  

Here's the thing...you won't find anyone on this earth who's more in love with my baby boy than me.  I dare you to try.  BUT-when Mommy's in a hurry and trying to rush to put her super stretchy-waist shorts on while simultaneously slipping on a pair of shoes, and her kid starts to inadvertently brag about his growing little legs by jabbing his mama in the side, she may (just for a second) forget how "cute" that is and feel a sense of irritation.  So while Henry's daddy came running to his rescue, ready to go to bat for his kid, I may have experienced my first feeling of annoyance with my child.  Whew.  There.  I said it.  Please don't judge me.  

You'll be proud to know that after my momentary lapse of thinking my kid-can-do-no-wrong, Henry and I sat down, had a chat, and came to a common understanding.  He promised that he'd keep all his high-stepping, leg-kicking, limb-shaking activities to a minimum when Mommy's in a hurry, and in return, I promised that I'd go back to thinking that every little move he makes (including his in utero somersaults and hiccups) are the most precious thing ever.  That is-while he's still in my belly.  I'm pretty sure that once he's out of the womb and I find him drawing on our bedroom walls with permanent marker because Daddy Perks is too busy watching ESPN, then we'll have to redefine the terms of this agreement.