#1) It’s really hard to put on boots. Not that I have gotten any awesome new boots, although I really want to, but haven’t because I’ve heard your feet can permanently grow as a side effect of pregnancy, and it would be just my luck, to get the best boots ever, only to have them fit for another few weeks and then never again. Plus all the boots will be on sale after the baby is born. Probably I’m really going be jonesing to go shopping with an infant on my hip, but I guess that’s what Zappos.com is for. Anyway, I’m talking about my old boots… my cowboy boots, my Emu’s, my snow boots, even my knee high black leather boots with heels, which looked so great but made me feel like I was hit by a train when I woke up the next morning, and are therefore not to be worn again till after the baby comes, if they still fit, that is…. I have a choice of bending or being able to breathe, but not both.
#2) It’s really hard to take off boots. This is good and bad. Re: the bad part, see above. The good part is, at parties, when you walk in and see dozens of pairs of shoes in the foyer and realize you are at a no-shoes party, and you really can’t blame the host for not wanting snow, salt, and dirt on their floors, but you’re like RATS because boots are the whole point of your outfit, not to mention you haven’t had a pedicure in six weeks, and you know for a fact that no one wants to be to your subject bare feet, or worse, you wore your really dorky Boulder Tri Club No Bonk socks because you assumed they would be obscured by the boots and they way they are constructed (perfect elasticity, never slip down, just enough cushioning but not too much) makes them the perfect-under-boots-never-to-be-seen-sock, but then you’re like un-RATS because, dangit, you’re pregnant and you have
an excuse a totally legitimate reason to leave the boots on. But you do make sure to wipe your shoes a few extra times on the welcome mat.
#3) It’s really hard to walk in the snow. Of course its hard in the first place but when the snow is knee deep, you’re carrying 30 extra pounds, and you thought taking the bus was a superior option to driving because of said snow, and then you find you’re tripping over yourself trying to navigate the snowbanks that have piled up even higher than knee deep en route the bus stop and then the bus is coming but you know its going to get to the stop before you do, and you wave it down, and attempt to run, just to show the bus driver you’re making an effort, even though the last time you tried to run 20 feet on flat, dry, ground minus about ten pounds it nearly killed you, so you do this pathetic jog/walk/shuffle thing and then, by the grace of god, the bus actually waits for you, and you enter the 90 degree bus panting like you just ran a 5k… well that’s hard. Is it harder than strolling around on a hot day in flip flops in your third trimester? I wouldn’t know. I’m just saying.