Why traveling with a pregnant lady can be annoying

It was pretty fun, but we're both walking mosquito bites now.

T and I went on another camping trip this weekend, this time to celebrate our 11th wedding anniversary. The drive to our destination was only about two hours, but it got me thinking about why traveling (and camping) with a pregnant lady might be annoying. And when I say "a pregnant lady," what I really mean is "me."

First of all, I'm forgetful these days. (Yes, even more so than usual.) This means you need to be prepared for me to run back inside the apartment two or three times to retrieve my water bottle, my purse, my cell phone, the grocery list, etc. Occasionally, you might drive a couple of blocks before I ask you to turn around because I forgot _____.

You must also be prepared for me to announce at any moment, "I'm hungry!" And I will need food immediately. (This may become one of the many reasons that I need to run back inside the apartment before we leave.) I am not doing this to be annoying. I'm doing it because I experience only two states related to hunger: 1) not hungry (a.k.a. "uncomfortably full"), and 2) suddenly very hungry.

Any time you see me take a sip of water, start looking for a rest area or gas station, because two or three minutes later, I will tell you I need a restroom...also immediately. Announcements of the need to pee can come at any time, regardless of how little time has passed since the last pit stop.

I will complain about the discomfort of sitting in the car, but I will probably also slow down any walking or hiking with complaints about a stitch in my side or constant comments about how tired I am.

When camping, I will wake you up every hour with my tossing and turning, complaints of congestion, and bathroom breaks.

Luckily for most of you, you are too far away from Maryland to worry about being trapped in a car or tent with me anytime in the next three months. At the least, though, perhaps this blog post has increased your respect for the infinitely tolerant and patient T, who put up with un-pregnant me for 10 years and has put up with pregnant me for several more months and continues to claim to want to keep on living and wandering with me and with the child who will (poor thing) be half me.

Happy anniversary, T.