So I have a confession. There may have been a bit of “lying by omission” happening in my post last month about our anniversary trip to the Northeast. Now don’t get me wrong, we had a lovely time and I wanted to, and did, share the highlights of our adventure. Buttttttt I also may have glossed over some of the less-than-flattering moments for me during that trip…
First off, let me tell you, there’s not much that’s pretty going on for a six(ish) weeks pregnant woman on vacation in August in a world where even the Panera is serving a lobster roll. I was tired, I was nauseous, I could smell EVERYTHING, and I wanted nothing to do with basically everything on their seafood-heavy restaurant menus. Normally, I’m all about enjoying seafood when we are on a coast, but after I ordered a lobster dish on the first night and took that first fateful, and disgusting, bite, I carefully navigated around similar offerings from there on out. Since most options sounded terrible or actually made me throw up (let’s just say it may be a while before I order chicken parm again…) I ordered a double portion of the buttered noodles off the kids’ menu the night we went out for our anniversary. I was even wearing a dress. Dan had the mussels and the Yankee pot roast; my first course was a fruit cup.
Thank God for kind waiters…And I won’t tell you what happened after we dropped into CrossFit Hyannis for an afternoon work out. Let’s just say there are probably some people who are wishing they could take back what they saw in that parking lot we pulled over in…
But I will say, as miserable as I have felt, I have never wanted to feel hung over so bad in my life! Especially with our first pregnancy loss, I was counting my blessings with the arrival and sustained evidence of each new pregnancy symptom. Every time I would start to feel queasy, I would thank Jesus, chug some ginger ale, and curse the fall of man. I mean I get it, Eve, apples are one of the only things that taste good to me right now, too. The last few weeks have me convinced that this whole “their will be pain in childbirth” thing applies to the nine (plus!) months leading up to delivery, too. Am I right?
The funniest thing, by far, that happened on our trip away took place in an Olive Garden. Now everyone who is my true friend knows that I was “forced” to work there for a brief time on summer break during college. I was a hostess and I had to have my Dad tie my tie for me before my first day of work. From there, I somehow managed to jimmy the thing on and off my head without loosing the knot each night. If you didn’t know, one of the greatest things about working at the Olive Garden is that they let you sample the dishes during the “alley rally” before your shift. It was supposed to make you a better waitress/hostess/employee so you could tell the customers about the various amazing dishes. I just looked at it as a free meal. Hey, I was in college.
Well you’d think that after a summer of stuffing myself with free pasta and pockets full of Andes mints, a forever staple at the hostess’ desk, I would have had enough of the good ole’ OG, but the inverse is actually true. Everything they serve tastes like it was made by the hands of angels. If fitting into my clothes on a regular basis wasn’t something I was concerned about, I would dine there once a week. And they just opened one last year in the city! I mean, have you HAD their breadsticks?!
So this brings me to our romantic anniversary trip. Normally Dan refuses to cater to my Olive Garden whims, especially when we’re somewhere special known for its food, but you’ve got a pregnant girl who can’t seem to stomach any of the local fare, a husband who just wanted to be nice, and as fate would have it, we were staying right down the street from an Olive Garden. Fast-forward to a bowl of salad, three breadsticks, and a plate of five cheese ziti later, I was in heaven…
The only problem? My already too-tight skinny jeans. So I did the only thing everyone else in that restaurant was probably doing and unzipped those bad boys. Ah, sweet relief.
It must have been the euphoria from actually finishing a somewhat balanced (??) meal that had me distracted, but as I marched myself out of that restaurant in my light blue skinnies and that cropped, loose-fitting tank top, I hardly noticed that my pants were not only unbuttoned, but my fly was completely unzipped revealing my neon blue underwear for my fellow diners to see. Unfortunately, I caught my mistake too close to the exit door and Dan and I laughed all the way to the car.
Let’s be honest people, I’m sure that’s not the first time that has happened at Olive Garden.
All in all, our trip was great. I am so grateful for this marriage and for this baby on the way. And if nothing else, I’d rather be sick on vacation than sick at work. At least this way, I got a good tan 🙂