My claim to fame ...

... I finally have one. Praise be. She was recently on legitimate television, her name begins with Paige and ends with Kellerman and she just went and published (and wrote .... but I know you're smart and that goes without typing but I'm typing it for the dumbs) the most hilarious book, At Least My Belly Hides My Cankles.

He staged this himself. "Funny because it's true" says him.

No amount of warnings from my formerly pregnant friends, or Googling, or even a close reading of Jenny McCarthy's Belly Laughs (that has nothing on this book - nothing) could prepare me for all the pleasant pregnancy tidings. This book could've broken all the pleasantries to me while making me laugh through the heartburn, edema, and melasma which would've been a feat - because my face swelled so badly with Julia's pregnancy that even a smile was a workout.

Do you have any pregnant friends? Friends that have been pregnant? You have to. Sometimes it seems like pregnancy is an epidemic and I know you have a pregnant friend or twelve this very second. Well .... forget the annoying advice that you were going to give her or the recounted horror stories about your own pregnancies and you can even forget the formal "congratulations" ... you just need to give her this book. It will be the best eight dollars you've ever invested in her emotional and hormonal well being.

Let me give some examples:

The general public may not be aware, but it should be noted that the pregnant woman fears the night more than she does a rogue hemorroid. 

um, Amen.

And from the chapter, "Piddle":

Somewhere around the fourth month of pregnancy, an unknown individual forgot to put their bowling ball in the ball return and dropped it on my bladder instead, the pressure to relieve myself rivaled only by the pressure put on a grilled cheese sandwich in a George Foreman grill. 

Truth. Me too.

And on her husband's understanding of the urgency that is pregnancy hunger/need food now:

What was usually a fifteen minute drive to downtown turned into my stomach's equivalent of Hannibal marching elephants across the alps. Slow and steady.

Sounds familiar.

She's a wordsmith. An accurate and hysterical wordsmith. She walks you through all trillion trimesters of morning sickness, crying, more crying, a little more crying, the swelling, the unfortunate bladder malfunctions, those early ultrasounds, those later checkups, gestational diabetes, tenting the belly, preeclampsia, and my favorite:postpartum fun. The whole book is phenomenal but this bit will make any postpartum mom feel so much better and normal and normaler.

I knew Paige's book wouldn't disappoint in the humor department but I wasn't prepared for it to be so relatable. She's got talent. I sometimes let myself dream about writing a book but after reading hers ... intimidation's got my tongue. Thank goodness I've got it on good authority (email in my inbox) that she's already started another. She's the best.

But wait, how is this your claim to fame, Grace?

Oh! I'll tell you right now. Paige and I go way back to our preteen years (that are never ever awkward and why do all preteen girls seems to have circles under their eyes or was that just me?) when we attended a summer camp in Kansas together (that oh so weirdly - was organized and put together by Simon's mom). We soldiered through morning exercises, "making" our beds by way of zipping up the old sleeping bags and fluffing our pillows full of dirty clothes, brushing our teeth simultaneously in the bathroom made entirely of cinder block, and I think there was some kayaking done in a glorified puddle. I don't remember how I found Paige's blog but I think I was probably up with baby Bash last Christmas surfing Facebook? I think. Anyway, we reconnected via email and she threw this at me after e-pleasantries had been exchanged:

I told my mom, yesterday, about realizing who you are, and she said, "You've got to be kidding me because I just found that picture Grace sent you eons ago of her in her dance costume." Say what?? Then I remembered that yes, we used to be pen pals and you did send my a picture of you in a red leotard.

Obviously, I was destined for greatness sending my penpals wallets of my person in my red lycra and sliver sequined dance number. And she still e-associates with me after that. Kindheart, that Paige. 

Want to win one? You do. Paige is generously doing what I like to call a "flash giveaway" --- it's quick and painless and I hope you win.

Break a water.


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