Thanksgiving is for the Preggers

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because unlike Christmas, the food is center stage and isn’t encumbered with gift opening, which takes away from precious time spent eating.

Just when I thought I couldn’t love T-day anymore, I realized that it was made for the pregnants and I fell even harder. As soon as holiday and human marriages are approved, Thanksgiving and I are finding the nearest courthouse. I could write a dissertation on my deep and abiding love for turkey day. I’ll spare you, but I will share why when I’m asked what I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving, between the mouthfuls of beautiful carbs I’ll be shoveling into my face, I’ll reply, “being pregnant on Thanksgiving.”

Stretchy pants. Seeing as they are already part of my everyday ensemble, I don’t have to waste time packing a change of post meal sweats (pregnant or not, please tell me you do this too?) since the in-laws graciously host us. Can I get an amen?

The gut. Being pregnant means I have the blessed joy of no longer pretending to suck in the gut post meals. I can unabashedly let it hang out, into my expando pants, testing the limits of their elasticity and if they were worth the $12 bargain I paid for them. A side of science with mealtime? A win-win.

Stuffing my face. Listen, it’s a lot of work turning food into a baby and Thanksgiving really gives me the edge I’ve been needing to reach my face stuffing, I mean baby growing potential.

If all goes according to plan, the anatomy of my T-day will look like this:

Post-gorging catnaps: 3

Blind eyes turned to my daughter’s sugar high shenanigans because I can’t get off the couch: 7

Pieces of pumpkin pie devoured: 3.5

Trips back to the smorgasbord: 5

Pounds of mashed potatoes turned into a baby: 4

Vegetables avoided: 6

Times I’ll think I can’t eat another bite but I will anyway: 23

Gosh, Thanksgiving Eve is so much better than its counterpart Christmas Eve. Is it wrong to get goosebumps at the thought of the glorious spread of food that awaits me tomorrow? If it is, I don’t want to be right. Pregnancy has got my back this Thanksgiving with its absence of buttoned pants and expectations to control myself. I happily intend to eat like nobody’s watching.

To my pregnant friends and the butterballs in your belly, happy Thanksgiving!

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