I've had it.
I have officially given up on shaving my legs.
I tried to shave in the shower. That didn't work. Gravity wanted me to keel over as I bent down over my swollen belly to attempt to shave my legs.
It didn't work well.
So then I decided that I'd try a bath.
Try leaning over a mini mountain and see how far you get.
By the time I was finished I was annoyed but slightly less hairy.
Though it's like I have freckles only instead of freckles they're patches of long hair in various places of my legs. The places that I was unable to reach.
I marched downstairs and told Tom, "Sorry, you're going to have a hairy wife for awhile," and told him the story.
He says he doesn't care.
I suppose I could ask him to shave me but that will turn him on and then I'll have to swat him away.
I'm slightly embarrassed on being seen by the doctor in my hairy condition but you know what, I'm sure they've seen worse. If they're even paying attention to my legs to begin with. Which I hope they aren't because hello, you're supposed to be checking the status of my cervix, not how much hair that is on my legs.
Of course then I start to worry about doctor gossip and my doctor saying behind a cupped hand, "My patient reminds me of a Yeti."
I'm Amber and I'm a Yeti.
Or a Big Foot.
Or, as my son told me when he saw some of my hair, "Mommy is Chewbacca!"