Beached Whale?

The other day, my husband made a big mistake.

He told me, jokingly, that I had a badonkadonk for a bootie. I'm not even sure how to spell such a word. And since spell check doesn't recognize it, I wonder if it should just be banished all together? Prior to pregnancy, I guess I had kind of had a booty. I'm no Kim Kardashian thankfully, but it wasn't like I had nothing there at all. Thanks to my darling little girl, lets just say most of my "growth" has been in the hip and Kim K area. 

In two weeks, Adam and I are heading out to Phoenix, AZ to have some fun with our BFF's KK and Marcus. During that time, I plan to spend some quality time laying out by the pool, hanging out in all my glory like the hot mama I am in my head. The other day, as Adam was looking online for a new swimsuit (since he hasn't bought one since 1995), he casually mentioned maybe I should look for a maternity bathing suit too. 

Say what!? I might need a new swimsuit?! No sir. He then went on to add that "You have gotten more of a, you know, badonkadonk since you've been pregnant." Oh hell no. Badonkadonk!?! Are you kidding me?!

So what did I do? The calm, rational being that I am? I went all pregnant lady crazy and tore apart the spare bedroom, psychotically looking for my damn swimsuits. I need a new swimsuit!?! PSSHH. I'll show him!! After tearing open two summer tupperware bins I found one in the rear corner under the bed that I knew was holding the proof that I have NOT gotten too big for my swimsuits. The thing would not budge. Now I was a fat pregnant lady on my stomach side, half way under the bed, maneuvering the tupperware from under the bed with a hammer (arm extension). I'm sure it was quite the sight. 

I finally managed to get the box out, found my suits, and immediately began trying them all on. I was bound and determined to prove that I can still wear my suits. And wear them I can! Granted, it took a little mixing and matching of tops and bottoms, but I'll be damned, the suits still fit. 

In the end, all that really matters is that I was right. What doesn't matter is how much of my ass crack is hanging out or how much side boob I have to show in order to wear the suits. 

Look out, Phoenix. An extraordinary sight is about to hit your local poolsides in T-minus 9 days.