I keep running into this problem with my body. Literally. Well, the problem is that I run into things and it hurts and I usually make a spectacle that results in innocent passersby trying not to gawk and snicker at the poor pregnant lady who lacks coordination.
We don't have a full-length mirror in our house. In fact, both mirrors are essentially from the chest up. I blame this fact for my inability to correctly gauge where my body is and isn't at any given time.
Because I can't see my ever-enlarging self on a regular basis my brain is still under the impression that I look something like this:
which is how I've looked for most of my non-pregnant life.
In reality I currently look like this:
Pardon the less-picturesque background. I'd much prefer Cesarea, Israel to my mudroom but such is life.
The other day I attempted to enter a building. (You see where this is going.) The door was heavy and cumbersome and so my plan was to pull it open just enough to slip through without having to muscle the thing all the way open. I was nearly through when the door (doing what doors do) closed. Which would have been fine if my right hip hadn't been in the way. I yelped in pain and tried to make it look like it wasn't a big deal and I meant for it to do that. I don't think my act was very convincing. The worst part of it was I had to share an elevator with the two hapless bystanders who watched the whole thing transpire. I didn't trust myself to look them in the eyes without laughing out loud and so I averted my gaze and tried to look normal while I mentally ROFLOLed. Really. You should have been there. It was hilarious.