Temerity Jane
28. 12. 2010

Now, I bet you think I’m going to try to stretch my pregnancy out as a Christmas gift, but I got pregnant in August and I’m pretty sure I don’t get a gift until the end and I’m pretty sure you can’t call it a gift if someone has earned it. Does your boss come up to you every other week with an envelope with a festive bow attached, watching eagerly for your expression as you open… your paycheck? No.

Also, it’s not the fact that Garlic Bread is a girl that I’m calling a gift, because I know that you found out on Christmas, Internet, but Phil and I knew before that. You’re going to have to get used to the idea that Phil and I find out information about this pregnancy and share it with you if and when we want to. We’re not all in this together – I mean, we’re not a team on this. In general, Internet, I consider us a team, but not on this. The whole world seems to think pregnancy is a team effort, where Phil and I want to consider everyone’s suggestions for names in a fair, democratic fashion and want to be told exactly how our labor will go based on exactly how someone else’s went, but I’m telling you, this is just us.

You know what, this is pretty much just me, but Phil gets to put on the jersey on game day, too, you know?

Anyway. No. Neither of those things.

The Christmas present that changed my entire life for the better was two three-packs of absolutely enormous underpants.

For the last couple of months, I have been suffering from severe underpants issues.

Every morning, I would put a pair of underpants on, and ten minutes later, they’d have taken off for parts unknown.

The combination of a protruding belly overtaking my waistline and the world’s flattest butt worked together to create an untenable underpants situation.

I’d put a pair of underpants on and do a couple of deep knee bends (which have gotten progressively less deep as time has gone on), attempting to assure myself of their security and set off about my day’s activities. As soon as I was involved in something, or as soon as the time looked extremely inconvenient, I’d feel them start to creep.

Sometimes, if I caught it soon enough, an inconspicuous wiggle or waistband adjustment could solve the problem – for a moment.

Most times, though, once the creep had started, the SPROING! of my underpants settling somewhere that left half of my butt exposed to the elements of the inside of my single pair of maternity jeans would sound.

And the jeans – the jeans designed for early pregnancy are not the kind you think of when you think of maternity pants. They’re designed to sit below the belly, with hidden elastic to allow you to expand the pants as needed. Never intended to go over the belly, just to get you through the initial puffing, bloat and shifting of all of your innards. So of course, sitting below my belly, these jeans have nothing but my no-ass to rely on for gravity defiance.

Ask me how well that has been working.

Anyway, as both a pregnant lady and a semi-professional hermit, reaching down the back of my own pants to yank up my underpants sixty-five to seventy-two times per day was no big deal. However, I have been known to occasionally leave the house as situations demand.

“Cover me!,” I’d hiss at Phil, reaching down into my own backside area on an Underpants Search and Rescue. He’d do his best, but we’d usually be somewhere like a parking lot, where there’s only so much covering the average sized man can do.

Or worse? The times when my hands would be full, and Phil would hear a frantic, “Help! My pants! Help! It’s all going! Help!,” and have to reach down himself and yank the whole rig back up.

What I’m saying is, the TJ-hood of the Traveling Underpants has been hard on all of us.

So, for Christmas, I asked for some great big underpants.

“How big?,” I would be asked.

“Just enormous. As big as you can get. Get me some big ol’ panties.”

I made sure to deliver this information to anyone who asked who I could also feel comfortable asking for underpants. This is more people than you’d think.

A night or two before Christmas, I panicked. I turned to Phil in the dark and said, “What if no one took me seriously? What if I don’t get any big underpants? I can’t live like this! I can’t!”

As a total team player and committed member of this company, he was quick to assure me that if no one snuck any mega-underpants into my stocking, we would brave the horrible crowds on the day after Christmas to procure some on our own. That’s why he gets to wear the jersey, guys.

“Ok,” I told him. “But did you know they sell maternity thongs? I don’t want any of those. I can’t even keep track of normal underpants. A maternity thong would be like a contact lens, where you think you lost it, so you put in a new one and then find out weeks later that you’ve been wearing two the whole time. No thongs.”

But we needn’t have worried, as when Christmas morning arrived, my mother had indeed come through for me with some simply enormous underpants. I mean, just huge. You have no idea. I took a pair out of the package to proudly display them over Skype to my entire family, my glee hidden behind the reams and reams of fabric.

And oh, man, when I put some on? You’ve never seen a happier pregnant lady in your life, I swear it. I pulled them all the way up and lapped the house in a awkward, waddling lope a few times, the dogs catching the excitement and following me in a glorious Underpants Parade around the living room.

“Look at me! Look at me!,” I crowed. “Look at me in my giant underpants! Look at the little pink polka dots on my giant underpants! Do you love them?”

“Ahh…,” said Phil, “I’m… happy that you love them.”

He doesn’t think my great big underpants are sexy, but you know what? That’s ok. You know what is even less sexy? Having to reach down your wife’s pants in the middle of the potato chip aisle because her underpants have given up the fight against the Belly Protrusion Invasion and taken off down the Wide Flat Assroad to freedom.

And, in honor of my own EXCESSIVELY GOOD MOOD (due entirely to underpants comfort) and also in honor of being HALFWAY FINISHED WITH PREGNANCY, here is Garlic Bread’s Halfway Point Hut.

Whoa-oh, we’re halfway there.
Whoa-oh, Garlic Bread’s Lair.

23 responses to “The Christmas present that changed my entire life for the better”

  1. I know. I KNOW. I swear to you I was dead serious about wanting suspenders to go UNDER my shirt to keep my underwear and pants up but would remain unseen. I had the whole plan figured out. Then I was on bedrest and it was a non-issue.

    TJ Reply:

    I think pregnant ladies have extra insight, but I think anyone who has spent even a day in an extremely uncomfortable pair of underpants has had a tiny peek into the world of underpants misery.

    I can pull these ALL THE WAY OVER MY BELLY. I am essentially using the baby to hold up my underpants. It’s never too early to start earning your keep.

  2. shel says:

    The “shelf” for your plate is quite nice as well….

    TJ Reply:

    Oh yeah, it held up a bowl of leftover stuffing QUITE well yesterday. I am very pleased with that development.

  3. sister says:

    THAT SHIRT LOOKS SO CUTE!!!!!!!!
    you’re welcome. i hope mabel likes it.
    also, if i had to choose, i’d pick garlic broad.

    TJ Reply:

    Whatever we call it, it’s not Mabel. We will be informing your niece of your disrespect of her fetus-hood.

    sister Reply:

    but if you pop her out and she looks like a mabel, you will have no choice.
    remember, mad about you.

    Lindsay Reply:

    I just bought all the seasons (that are out) of Mad About You! Mabel was a terrible pick, I remember watching with my parents when I was little and they were not happy with the name Mabel.

  4. MommiePie says:

    Oh! When you have the baby, they give you the most wonderful mesh panties in the hospital. I smuggled as many as i could fit in my bag home with me. I only wish they sold them as maternity panties somewhere so they could be enjoyed before the baby comes. Oh well. Something else to look forward to!
    Congrats on the half-way point! My little guy is 6 weeks old already! So much fun, but still in the mesh underwear :(

  5. Gen says:

    I still remember the joy the day I gave up the ghost on cute maternity underpants and went for the biggest pair I could find. It was heavenly, and I’m glad you are enjoying your enormous underpants.

  6. Brandi says:

    My twins were born via c-section and I quickly found EVERY PAIR of panties I own sit right at the scar. The first thing I did when I felt good enough to leave the house was buy 2 packs of ginormous panties. They went all the way up to my boobs. Oh, the relief!

    TJ Reply:

    Well, now I am even more pleased with my parachute-sized underpants, in case of C-section! This gift just keeps getting better.

  7. Kristin says:

    You are looking might cute, lady! So glad you got a useful, mood-improving gift. Enjoy them and… it’s all downhill from here. Happy Halfway!

  8. Melinda says:

    But now I need new underpants because this phrase right here:

    “glorious Underpants Parade around the living room” with the accompanying mental image made me laugh and laugh until I peed a little. You’re awesome and you look fantastic!

    TJ Reply:

    I know your pain. I had to pack 6 pairs of underpants for a 2 night trip because of serious sneezing problems over Thanksgiving. And I wore them all.

  9. Swistle says:

    Oh, you and Garlic Broad look so NICE!

    Also: maternity thong OMG. Contact lens analogy: cure.

  10. Nancy P says:

    “I made sure to deliver this information to anyone who asked who I could also feel comfortable asking for underpants. This is more people than you’d think.” LMAO!!!!!!!!!!
    This post made my entire day! Wiping tears from my eyes.

  11. Diane says:

    Maternity THONGS? OH PUH-LEASE.

    I love the shirt. So very much.

  12. Kellie says:

    I must say – your perspective on the whole panty issue just cracks me up :) Glad you found underpants that are more comfortable….I’ve been in the ‘falling down’ phase – and that is NOT as fun as people think it may be :)

    Happy Half way! Any idea on how you’re decorating Girl-ic bread’s nursery yet?

  13. I am aghast at the thought of maternity thongs. Whose idea was that? Don’t get me wrong, I hate panty lines as much as the next guy… But I’d be willing to overlook a little panty line on anyone who is carrying a human around in her midsection.

  14. […] I have to be the one who bought it? Because I’m still floating on my giant underpants […]

  15. Alex says:

    Everything about this made me smile.

  16. […] BIT UNFAIR. The same goes for suggesting my every emotion is a flapping red flag the size of my enormous underpants, surely indicating the onset of PPD. “Your face is really red and you’re screaming a […]